Born of Ash and Fire
by MandyLeigh87
Summary: As the kingdom prepares for a grand tournament, Prince Edward becomes captivated with the Blacksmith's daughter. But despite her love for him, her secret may tear them apart forever. BxE Rated M EPOV
1. Chapter 1

The notice posts long before the sun rises. And as the townspeople awake with the day, the buzz around the impending event hangs heavy in the air. Whispers between young girls in the streets. Bets between the tailor and the shoemaker. Young boys practicing in hopes that one day, it will be their chance.

In the background of the village, the goliath castle rises into the heavens, casting an impenetrable shadow on the surrounding hills. For the first time since the King ascended the throne, a woman in the Royal Line has come of age.

"Father!" The child shouts, pointing towards the notice. "Read it to me!"

The father clears his throat and begins to recite the text.

"Notice! King Carlisle of Denali will host a Grand Tournament, in honor of his dear niece, Lady Tanya, tomorrow at noon. The winner of the joust, and henceforth, the tournament, shall receive Lady Tanya's hand in marriage."

The child's eyes widen, drifting far off into a world of swordfights, horses, and royalty. "One day, I'm going to be a knight!"

The little one's father smiles, like any father would. "I'm sure you shall, my dear." He knows the bitter truth. His child will probably amount to nothing more than a blacksmith, an outcast blacksmith at that, the same as he. But he can not speak the truth. Not to the child with his wife's eyes. The light of his life. Because even in these dark times, he wants to believe that a poor child from the village can someday rise to the King's court.

 _ **Ten Years Later...**_

"Edward? Where are you off to?" My father calls. His crown rests on his head, slightly lopsided. Just as it has since the day I was born.

"Into the village. Mother requested some fresh vegetables from the market," I say.

Father sighs. "She has servants for that."

"But I will gladly go." I smile. "If you allow, _my King_." He hates when I do this. Which is why I find myself doing it so often.

"You have not asked my permission since you were eleven years old." Father says, fighting a grin. He tells me I remind him of himself long ago. Before the weight of the kingdom fell upon his shoulders.

"Shall I see you tonight at dinner?" I ask.

Father waves me off and goes back to his reading. Most would think a king would read nothing but philosophers and historians. My father reads fairy tales like he believes they still come true.

I retreat to the stables for my horse and start into town with my small party of guards. One of the pitfalls of living as a royal. No privacy. No time to be alone. Sometimes I yearn for a moment to breathe. Just some space to be free.

The journey to town does not last long, only occupying a small part of my morning. Mother and Father do not venture into town much, but I enjoy it immensely. The castle has never quite felt like home to me, with its stone walls and drafty, musty air. Everyone is so concerned with being proper and unfeeling. Down here in the village, I feel life. Even if it's only the breadmaker putting out his latest kitchen disaster, it's more emotion than I find up there.

The townspeople used to find it strange that I spent so much time with them, talking with them and experiencing what they see everyday. Over the past few years, that fascination has turned to a genuine friendship. Sometimes I wish I could drag Father here more often to connect with his people. He's a fine King and a fine Father, but he doesn't know them like I do.

"Prince Edward, what can I help you find today?" The woman behind the vegetable stand smiles behind her vibrant rows of food.

"Tomatoes, please. Thank you, Miriam." I peruse the rest of her produce as she packages up my order.

Something across the square catches my attention, my ear really. The bang bang of a hammer against metal. Methodical. Timed. Deliberate.

I glance towards the Blacksmith's shed. Jacob, the old Blacksmith's son, must be working on a new project. I have visited him several times for gifts intended for my father. He does great work. Just like his father did before he died.

"Excuse me, Miriam. I will return shortly." I nod and start towards the shed to see what he's working on, my guards following closely behind.

Large pieces of metal hang down, covering him from the shoulders up as he pounds away on what looks like some type of shield.

"Working hard?" I say, smiling. He doesn't hear me over the sound of his work. "I say, working hard?" I yell, stepping around the metal pieces. I'm greeted with long dark hair tied back, pulled away from a decidedly feminine face. Not Jacob.

The woman stops her work and steps back, dark smudges on her face.

"Oh!" I say. "I'm sorry. I thought you were Jacob."

She eyes me up and down before offering her hand, which is something I'm not used to. Usually people are terrified to touch me.

"I'm his sister. Isabella."

"Sister?" I've known Jacob for over a year now and he's never mentioned a sister.

"I've been staying with family for the last two years. Just recently returned to town." She nods. Two years. Just about when Jacob told me their father passed. "And you are?"

One of the guards behind me laughs.

"Edward."

"Nice to meet you, Edward." She seems unimpressed and for once appears to have no idea who I am. It's quite refreshing.

"You as well, Isabella. Please tell Jacob I stopped by."

"I shall." She turns back to her work and I to Miriam, who is waiting for me with my order. The guards pay her double what she asks.

"Thank you for your generosity, Sire," Miriam says. A group of men emerges beside me carrying large fabric banners, displaying bright colors that made my heart nearly leap from my chest. "Those can go up now, boys."

"What are those for?" I ask.

"Festival of the Moon tonight." Miriam smiles and goes back to her work.

After I return to the castle, I visit with Mother out in the gardens and tend to a chess match with one of the cooks. As night falls, I grow restless. My thoughts wander to the village, to the girl with the long brown hair, to the bright banners. And instead of reading the book beside my bed for the hundredth time, I make a decision. I'm in the mood for a festival.

* * *

 **A/N: Welcome to Born of Ash and Fire, everyone! Thank you for joining me :)**

 **Sincere thank you to ImHereToReview, especially for her help with coming up with a title. I'd be lost without you!**

 **Updates will come once a week. There may be a lack of updates during the last week and a half of July, due to a hectic work schedule I know I will have during that time. If anything comes up that will prevent me from updating, I will be sure to let everyone know via FB (Mandy Leigh) and/or Twitter (MandyLeigh010). I will do my best to stick to the schedule, but I ask for patience and understanding if something does come up. Life has a way of throwing a few curve balls every now and then.**

 **Characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer, I just make them do what I want. Obviously this story is set in the past, and while I try to make it as realistic as possible, I also reserve the right to use creative license for the sake of the story.**

 **Thank you again for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts on where you think we're headed from here :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The guards pace below my window, anticipating any escape attempts. I must admit, I do give them a run every now and then. But it is to be expected, don't you think? A young man of nearly twenty cooped up in this big, drafty castle is bound to feel anxious, as I do tonight. And two measly guards will not stop me from attending that festival, which has apparently already begun judging from the sounds of the music echoing up from the village below.

I gather my things and casually stroll down to the steps to the entrance below. When I spot the guards, I tuck myself behind the stone wall and grab the rock from my pocket.

"Where do you think you're going?" One of the guards says, cocking his brow. I sigh, thinking I've been caught before I even had the chance to outsmart them.

"Nature calls," the other says, waddling towards the small bush in the lawn.

While both are otherwise occupied, I throw the rock with all my might into the tree line on the grounds. It hits a trunk and rockets down to the ground with a mighty racket.

"What was that?" The guard asks, finishing up at the bush.

"I don't know," the other says. "Came from over in the forest."

"I hear it's haunted."

"Oh, rubbish."

"Heard there's a monster that lives there, eating unsuspecting villagers that get lost in the trees."

"Don't you think the king would have sent an army in there if that were true, Horace?"

"Don't believe me? Go in there yourself!" Horace dares. I merely anticipated them investigating the noise, but this tall tale is even better.

Horace eggs him on for a few moments before they both descend towards the trees and disappear into the dark. I take the opportunity to slip out to the stables and grab my horse.

The ride to the village is shorter than usual, since I can actually ride the horse as it is meant to be. My guards are a little over protective and barely allow me to get him up to a trot before I am scolded.

The sounds of music grow louder as I approach, the tops of the thatched roofs coming into view over the hill. The glow of hundreds of small lanterns, strung and hung around the village, light up the sky like the softest blanket. It gives me warmth, into the deepest pits of my chest. Not like the cold, distant balls that Father hosts at the palace. I feel connected. I feel excited.

I tie up my horse and slip between the apothecary and the breadmaker's house, coming up behind the crowd gathered at the town center. A small group of musicians play off to the side, a happy melody echoing through the village.

Some dance. Some clap. Some drink ale. I watch. One maiden in particular.

Even in the absence of the black smudges and sorrowful frown, I recognize her. The blacksmith's daughter.

She stands a step back from the crowd, drinking a tall mug and conversing with another young lady.

I weave through the crowds, thankfully falling inconspicuous. When I reach her, I clear my throat as her companion steps away. Isabella glances my way and takes a sip from her mug.

"Good evening, my lady," I say.

"Good evening." Her eyes follow the myriad of dancers in the crowd. "You could have told me you were a royal, you know."

"Now, where is the fun in that?" I reach for her mug and delight when she allows me to take it. The bitter ale hits my smiling lips and I sigh.

"You could have had me thrown in the stocks for my behavior. I was not very pleasant with you."

"I quite enjoyed it, actually." I hand her back her drink. "And your punishment shall be a dance. With me." She hesitates when I offer her my hand. "If you fear that is not punishment enough, I can step on your toes a couple of times, if you wish."

A smile falls upon her lips as she takes my hand. I lead her out into the crowd as the musicians begin another melody.

We blend in with the crowd and stand out all at one time. Although I am used to dancing with many ladies up at the castle, Isabella is the first one I enjoy being this close to. She smells of the slightest hint of smoke and ash, floating up from her hair. It's quite delightful.

"Do you come to the village often?" Isabella asks as we circle one another. Our hands, entwined and lifted high above our heads, hold onto each other tight.

"Yes. I get lonely up at the castle."

"That's hard to believe," she says, narrowing her eyes at me like she feels I am deceiving her.

"What?" I ask, smiling in disbelief.

"But _Sire,_ you're surrounded by beautiful women who probably throw themselves at you every moment of every day. Servants there to cater to your every need. How could you possibly be lonely?"

My hand envelops her waist, spinning us both around. "Fake gems may be pretty to look at, Isabella. But they're far from real, true precious stones." I throw her an enchanting smile, knowing that overdramatic line would keep her going. Even if it is true. Quarreling with her entertains me.

Her body shakes with laughter, although she is trying to hide it. "You think you're quite charming, do you?"

"Am I not?" I grin, pulling her closer to me.

Someone taps on my shoulder, pulling me out of the moment and out of the tiny universe isolating Isabella and I from the crowd.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Edward?" Jacob glances between Isabella and I, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Dancing with your sister, you halfwit."

"Dancing? The music ended nearly a minute ago."

I look around and find the musicians have abandoned their instruments for ale, and the crowd thinned.

"Suppose you're right," I say.

"Who's the halfwit now?" He jests. Isabella attempts a curtsey, but manages to step on the hem of her dress instead, and steps away.

"You never told me you had a sister," I say, watching her move through the crowd, her hair floating behind her like a mystic fog.

"You did not ask." Jacob cocks his eyebrow and smiles as he sips from his mug.

"Well," I sling my arm around his neck, "I am asking now."

* * *

 **A/N: Wowzers, guys! Completely blown away by your response to the first chapter. Thank you so much for the kind words and for caring so deeply about this story already.**

 **Anyway, can we say tennnnnsion? Phew. *fans self***


	3. Chapter 3

"How was the festival last night, son?" My mother asks, sampling a slice of bread.

I am overly exhausted, which is completely my fault for staying in town too late. And disgustingly sick from the ale. But I blame Jacob for that one.

"How did you know?" I ask, rubbing my eyes while I attempt to eat a decent breakfast.

"I'm your mother, I know everything." She smirks, but does not say another word.

"I have made a decision!" Father announces, stomping into the room like a galloping steed.

"And what is that, dear?"

"We shall hold a tournament! In a fortnight, for the girls' birthdays!"

His voice echoes in my head, too loud and boisterous for so early in the morning. "Please stop shouting," I mumble.

"Well, I simply cannot help it, my dear boy! It has been over ten years since our last tournament! When your cousin Tanya was the prize. Now, it shall be your sisters' turn." He rubs his hands together. "Quite exciting, isn't it?" He leaves the room, giddy as a young child, as he begins to plan for the event.

"Don't you think the girls are a little young to be betrothed?" I ask.

"They are only three years younger than you, Edward. I am surprised he has not forced you into a marriage."

"It just does not seem right, Mother." I shake my head. "Father reads all of these fairy tales about love and happy endings, yet he plans to offer up his daughters for the taking?"

She clears her throat. "This is the way it is. Way it always has been."

"I thought Alice was to marry Prince Alastair?"

"His father and the King had a bit of a falling out," she says. "I would not be surprised if he follows through with this tournament just to spite him."

"You know about Rose..." I begin.

"Hold your tongue. Do not speak of it," she scolds.

My sister is in love with a servant boy. It is quite the royal scandal. Thankfully, my father is too caught up in his own affairs to notice. Although I doubt she will mind filling him in when she hears of his plans. Little Rosie has a smart mouth that would have spoken the truth months ago if she had not promised Mother to keep quiet. I cannot fault my mother. She thinks it is an infatuation, young lust, that will run its course and burn out.

"Perhaps, Lady Katherine will come to court for the tournament?" She muses. "I am sure you would like to see her again, Edward. You two got along so well at their last visit."

"Not especially." I roll my eyes. Lady Katherine had an air of entitlement to everything around her, including me. Even though Father had not struck a marriage contract with her father, it was an unspoken line that we were promised to one another. She bores me. _Immensely_.

"Oh, hush. She's a lovely girl."

Speaking of lovely girls, I missed Isabella last night at the festival after our dance. I spotted her every so often here or there, conversing with the townsfolk, but I never had a chance to speak with her again. Perhaps I shall ride into the village today for a visit.

"What are you smiling about?" Mother asks.

"Nothing at all," I lie, rising. I kiss her on the cheek and leave the room.

I find Alice and Rosalie in the gardens.

"Edward," Alice says, smiling. "How are we feeling this morning?"

"Tired."

Rosalie does not speak a word. I suspect Father has already told them about the tournament.

"Worried about the upcoming tournament, dear Rosalie?" I ask.

"Do not speak of it to me, Brother," she hisses.

"It will be alright, Rose. I know it." Alice reaches out to comfort Rosalie, but she turns away.

"It cannot be alright," Rose snaps. "It cannot. Nothing can be alright when you cannot marry the one you love." She rises and storms off toward the kitchens, probably to find him.

"You should not tease her, Edward," Alice scolds. "You haven't a clue about what we are about to go through."

"And I wish, dear sister, I could change that." I kiss the top of her hand.

"Where did you go last night?" She smiles again, leaning back into the grass.

"To the village. I saw Jacob and his sister. She is..."

"Beautiful? Intelligent? Strong?"

"You know her?"

"Aye. She's quite talented at her craft. It's a shame she left for so long after her father passed." She glances down at her hands. "How is Jacob?"

"Just as infatuated with you as usual." I smile. "If you were as brazen as Rosalie, Father would have two daughters wanting to marry a commoner."

"He is a sweet boy, but I do not fancy him. And you?" She asks. "Who shall you marry?"

For some strange reason, a certain dark haired beauty preys upon my thoughts. "Perhaps I do not know her yet."

Alice shrugs and stands, brushing off her dress with a knowing smile. "Perhaps."

* * *

 **A/N: I hope all of my American readers had a wonderful 4th! And to everyone not celebrating, I hope you had a great weekend :)**

 **Thank you so much for reading and for rec'ing this story, especially FicSisters!**

 **See you next week :)**


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as news of the tournament hits the village, the people go into a frenzy. Sometimes, I think they enjoy it more than we do. Not that it's much of an enjoyment to me at all. I barely remember the last tournament to honor my cousin Tanya. I was merely a child, but the only image I can remember is watching the winning knight bowing before us and offering his undying love and devotion to my cousin. That love did not last long. I do not envy my sisters.

A fortnight before the start of the tournament, I venture into the village to visit with Jacob, and hopefully see Isabella again. When I come upon them, they seem to be quarreling.

"You cannot use that, Jacob," Isabella says, grabbing a sheet of shiny metal. "It's promised to someone already."

"For what?" He asks.

"Good morning," I say, stepping into the workshop. "Am I intruding?"

"Never, Your Highness." Jacob laughs and bows. Isabella avoids my gaze. "Excited for the tournament?"

"It is only the highlight of my existence," I tease. "It is a pity you cannot enter, dear friend, I have seen you fooling with the other men in the village. You are quite the swordsman."

"Thank you. Please excuse me, I must find another piece of metal." He eyes his sister and leaves.

I turn to Isabella. "Will you be attending the festivities? The gala at the castle tomorrow evening?" A pretournament ritual in the kingdom. My father puts on a wondrous party for the people, one of the only times he interacts with them other than to collect taxes.

"I do not know." She begins to assess the piece of metal she's stolen from Jacob.

"Oh?" I am disappointed, but I try not to show it. "If I command you to attend, will you?" I smirk.

"And if I do not, would you have me thrown in the stocks?" There is a small smudge of ash on her cheek, just below her eye. I reach out and brush it away.

"I would not dream of it, Isabella. I only wish to enjoy your company."

"I cannot imagine my company would be that much of an enjoyment." She shakes her head. "Besides, I have nothing suitable to wear. I cannot very well go to the castle wearing this." She gestures down to her dirty dress, filled with holes and char marks.

"I think you look beautiful."

She rolls her eyes at me as Jacob returns.

"Come, I have some things to show you," Jacob beckons, leading me into the room where he keeps all of his projects. He shows me his latest shields, swords, and armor, and when we return, Isabella is gone.

"What's her story?" I ask.

"Who? My sister?" He smiles. "You fancy her."

"I can't ask a simple question without accusations?"

"Of course you can, Edward. Isabella's a special girl, a spitfire, aye. You will not find another like her in the whole kingdom." He leans over the table. "Father's death affected her more than anyone. They were very close, you see."

I nod. "Thank you for your hospitality, Jacob. I hope to see you both at the gala tomorrow." With a smile, I leave.

The moment I enter the caste gates, I search for Alice. I know she can help me.

I find her in the library, in her favorite window seat, tucked away with a good book.

"I require your assistance, Sister," I say.

"With what?"

"I need a dress."

"What ever for?" Her eyes grow large.

"For Isabella."

She smiles, understanding my request without another word.

"Follow me." She sets her book down and leads me to her quarters. Her wardrobe houses many beautiful dresses, but one in particular strikes me. A deep shade of green, like the leaves on the trees, with splashes of gold around the sleeves and neck.

"That one," I point to the dress. "May I borrow it?"

"It's hers. I do not need so many dresses."

Later that evening, I package the dress in a box and sit down at my desk to write her a letter.

 _Dearest Isabella,_

 _I hope to see you this evening at the gala._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Edward_

The next morning, I wake with the sun and send a messenger with the package to the village.

Now, the wait begins. And as the castle awakens with the bustle of preparations for tonight's festivities, my thoughts cannot help but wander to a girl and the green dress I hope to see in mere hours.

I spend the afternoon walking the grounds with Mother, picking flowers in the garden and talking.

"I worry for you, Son," she says, twirling a delicate rose between her fingers.

"Why is that?"

"I worry for your heart, dear boy." She smiles sadly. "When you were a child you had this amazement with the world. You fell in love with the beauty of it all. Growing old steals that spark away from most of us, Edward. When you take the thrown, when you marry..."

I stop. "Remember when you used to chase me around the garden, and tickle me until my face was red from laughter?"

"Those were some of the loveliest afternoons of my life."

I smirk and stalk toward her.

"Edward, don't you dare." She backs away, fighting a smile.

I lunge toward her playfully, and she begins to run around the bushes, skirt in her hands just high enough to skip through the grass. We round the rose bushes, laughing and out of breath, until we both collapse onto the blanket of leaves.

"See?" I say. "Your spark is still there, Mother."

"Thank you for reminding me."

"I'll always remind you."

"And I you." She grabs my hand. "I am so proud of you."

I retire to my quarters to prepare for the gala. I plan dress in gold, hoping to match the accents on Isabella's dress. Before I reach my room, I stop by Rose's room. She stands before a mirror, fixed on her reflection. She wears not a gown, but a simple peasant's dress. Beautiful, but simple. Not typical for a royal.

"Father will love that dress," I tease.

"Oh, hush. Emmett got it for me. Cost him most of his wages."

I sit at the edge of her bed. "What are you doing, Rosie?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you really think Father will allow you to marry a servant?"

She eyes me in the mirror. "Not anymore than he will allow you to marry a blacksmith." She cocks her eyebrow.

I sigh. "I see Alice couldn't keep her mouth shut."

"We're sisters, you tell one of us you may as well be telling both." She turns. "So tell me, dear brother, why can you choose your fate but I cannot choose mine?"

"I wish nothing more than for both of my sisters to be happy. And if it were up to me, I would allow you to marry whomever you choose, whether it's a King or a stable boy. But in our present circumstances..."

"The will of the heart matters little, I know." She glances back at the mirror. "I cannot live without him, Edward."

I leave her in peace and retire to dress for the gala.

Before I leave my room, I glance outside to see the carriages and horses arriving. Ladies and gentlemen strut into the palace in extravagant dress, laughing and talking amongst themselves.

It is easy to see the line between members of court and the commoners. The trail to the village is thick with people walking to the castle, their best dress something a courtier would wear to work in the kitchens, if they were to work at all. I search for a glint of green in the moonlight, hoping Isabella has changed her mind and attend, but I only see shadows.

For the first hour of the gala, I parade around, attending to royal duties and entertaining the guests. The courtiers spend most of their time at the north end of the great room, while the villagers stick mostly in groups toward the south end. No mixing of the groups. An unspoken rule, I'm afraid. It does not seem like much of a celebration to me with the nobles glaring at the villagers, and the villagers nervous to take a step out of line.

Some of the knights participating in the tournament have arrived early. I sit in a corner, drinking ale and watching them try to impress my sisters. Neither of them seem interested, but it is entertaining to watch.

Then, as the music starts, something, or rather someone, catches my eye at the doors. A beautiful girl in a green dress, with gold trim. Her face and hands void of ash smudges, her hair half up in a lovely mix of braids and soft curls. For a moment, I'm so stunned by her beauty that I cannot speak or move, but when I can, I stand.

The chatter between the guests lulls, every eye on her, every eye on me, as we meet in the middle of the room. One royal. One commoner, although in my eyes she is far from common. I doubt anyone would call the night sky common. Nor the bright, shining sun or a glass-like lake. Yet she was all of these things. Beautiful, mysterious, serene.

"My lady," I say, bowing to Isabella as I take her hand. "May I have this dance?"

"Everyone is staring," she says, blushing as I spin her around the floor. My hand is tight around her waist, holding her closer than most others dancing.

"Let them stare."

She averts her eyes to the floor. "The dress was completely unnecessary, but thank you, Your Highness."

"Edward, if you please." I smile. "And it was completely necessary. Although it matters little to me what you wear, it was the only way to get you here."

"And I am sure your evening would have been completely ruined if the blacksmith's daughter had not attended the ball." She shakes her head and finally looks up at me.

"It would have been," I speak slowly, entranced by her eyes. Soft and strong all at once. "Your eyes are captivating."

"Stop," she says.

"Stop, what?"

She cocks her eyebrow, a challenge I am not quite accustomed to. "Your flattery will get you nowhere with me, my Lord."

"Will it not?" I fight a smirk.

"May I?" A young woman steps beside us, bowing. I feel as though I know her.

"Lady, uh..." I begin.

"Margaret," she answers.

"Lady Margaret, of course. I would be honored to dance with you later this evening-"

"Now is quite alright," Isabella says, stepping aside. "Please." She allows Lady Margaret to take her place and disappears from the dance floor.

I do not see Isabella again until after supper. I find her with Jacob, enjoying the ale by the large stain glass window at the front of the hall. Large, swooping curtains sweep to the side, framing it in thick, red velvet.

Just as I approach, Jacob leaves to refresh his glass, but I do not intrude. I hide behind one of the curtains and just watch her. She examines the glass in front of her. The blues and greens and yellows popping with the moonlight behind them. I cannot help but smile.

"Hello?" A fiery-haired beauty approaches Isabella with a look of curiousity. I do not know her, that I am sure. Father invited several of his friends from neighboring kingdoms, she must come from abroad.

"Oh, hello." Isabella smiles and turns back to the glass.

"Did I see you dancing with Prince before?" The woman asks.

"You did."

"And you are?" Her eyes narrow at Isabella in a way that I am not sure I like.

"Isabella."

"Just Isabella?"

Isabella shrugs. "Yes, just Isabella."

"I am _Lady_ Victoria. My father and the king are old friends." Victoria smiles, as though she's won a competition.

"Pleasure to meet you, my lady." Isabella curtseys out of politeness.

"Where do you live, Isabella?" Victoria asks.

"Oh, I live in the village. My father was the blacksmith."

Victoria nearly chokes on her drink. "A blacksmith, really?" She glances over Isabella, scrutinizing every detail. "And I see you've taken over the family business. Would you like to know a secret, Isabella?" She leans in close and lowers her voice. "Princes don't fall in love with girls with dirt under their fingernails." As Victoria walks away, I see the tears well in Isabella's eyes as she picks at her nails, then tries to hide them in the skirt of the dress.

"Isabella..." I step out and grab her arm. "Pay no mind."

"Forgive me if I speak out of turn, your Highness," she speaks, her voice flaring with anger as the tears threaten to fall from those soft, kind eyes. "But allow me to make myself clear. I have no desire to fall in love with you or anyone else, so let us stop this charade. I do not belong in this dress, nor in this hall. Clearly, I am not one of these people."

She rushes away, cutting through the crowd and out the door before I can tell her the truth. She's right. She is nothing like these people. And that is precisely why I adore her so.

* * *

 **A/N: Whew! Lots of ups and downs with these two! Thank you so much for reading and for recommending this story. It is so appreciated and I love you guys :)**


	5. Chapter 5

I rise early the next morning, itching to go to the village to speak to Isabella. Before I can make it out of the castle, Father stops me near the door and pulls me into his study.

"Did you enjoy the party last night, Edward?" He asks, settling into a large chair. Maps of the kingdom and the bordering lands lay spread over the table, held in place by polished rocks.

"I suppose."

He chuckles to himself. "I suppose."

I stand, aching to leave so badly that my legs shake.

"I have been thinking, with this tournament and the girls...Is it not time for you to find a bride, Son?"

"I, uh..."

"It's just that I won't be around forever, Edward. You are my son. You will be the next king. You need a queen by your side. Do you have anyone you fancy?"

I remain silent, thinking it best to say nothing rather than the name that is really on my mind.

"Lady Victoria would be a smart match. Good family, good kingdom."

My jaw clenches, holding back my tongue. I want absolutely nothing to do with her, especially after the way she treated Isabella at the ball.

"Forgive me, Father. I have duties to attend to. Please, excuse me." I depart before he can get another word out and quickly head into the village.

I search the workshop, but do not find Isabella or Jacob home. When I ask the merchant next door, he tells me he saw them walking toward the lake just after sunrise.

I weave through the trees as I come close to the lake, my guards waiting back on the road at my insistence. I hear them before I see them, laughing and teasing each other. And the smack-smack of wooden swords colliding.

"You're getting pretty good, Jacob," Isabella says.

I kneel down at the top of a small embankment and watch them. They both have long swords, made from nothing more than the forest's remains fashioned with a hilt.

"Yeah, yeah." He lunges toward her, but she skillfully slides out of his way, a smirk on her lips. She spins around and quickly hits him in the shoulder with her makeshift blade.

"My, my, Jacob, I fear my confidence in your skills was misplaced. I hope you will not be entering the tournament," I say, emerging from the trees.

Jacob laughs. "I'm afraid I agree with you, my Lord." He offers me his sword. "Do you wish a try?"

"Against your sister?" I cock my eyebrow at Isabella. She holds her gaze, her expression far from a smile.

"Jacob," she scolds.

"What?" Jacob sighs. "You're good, Bella. Just don't hurt him, he is a royal." Jacob winks and leaves for the road back to the village.

"So, you're good at this, huh?" I toss the makeshift sword between my hands.

"I suppose," she says. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Why?"

I playfully strike at her and she easily avoids my attack. We circle each other, down in a defensive pose ready to fight.

"Why? Because I wanted to see you, Bella is it?" I tease.

"But why do you want to see me, my Lord?" She jabs me in the ribs before I can even think about defending myself. _Ouch_. "Why bother with me at all?"

I stop. "Is it really that hard to see?"

She blushes. "What?"

"I enjoy spending time with you."

"Do you not have enough proper company at the palace?"

"What is your definition of proper company?"

She sighs and throws her sword down, brushing past me in a huff of anger. I run to catch up with her just before she reaches the road.

"Why are you mad at me?" I grab her arm and pull her back toward me. She trips on my toes and falls into my chest. Close enough to feel her breath on my neck.

"Because," she mumbles. "You are you and I am me and you have no right telling me that you enjoy spending time with me." She pulls away and takes off down the road, toward the village.

My two guards watch our quarrel, even though they pretend not to pay attention. "Ouch, Your Highness," one of them says.

"Ouch indeed, Francis." Her dismissal hurts more than her swordplay.

When I return to the palace, Father asks me to accompany him on a short diplomatic trip to the next kingdom. We leave early the next morning, and I try not to look for Isabella when we pass through the village. Most of the people come out and line the streets whenever my father comes through, waving and cheering for their King.

It's nearly three days journey to the border, and another two to the palace. Father tells me this trip is about forming an alliance, however I am unsure on what kind of alliance he means until I meet the inhabitants of the palace.

"Lady Victoria." I force a smile and lean down to kiss her hand. "It is lovely to see you again."

"Daughter, please show Prince Edward the grounds while King Carlisle and I discuss our plans." Her father smiles at her and pulls my father into another room.

"Do you remember coming here as a child?" Victoria asks. "Once, when we were about five years old, you accompanied your father on a visit. We played just there," she says, pointing to a side room full of windows overlooking the gardens.

"I do not, I am sorry." I smile. "The palace is beautiful."

"It is modest compared to yours, Your Highness." She touches my arm. "I am looking forward to the tournament. Are the Princesses excited?"

"I do not know if excited is the proper word." Alice is indifferent and Rosalie is indignant.

Victoria shows me through the great hall and out to the grounds before sending me to my quarters before dinner.

I lay on the bed, wishing I had not agreed to come on this ridiculous trip, when I hear my father's voice out in the hall.

"At the conclusion of the tournament, I look forward to announcing the engagement of all of my children."

"Wonderful," I whisper to myself. I roll to my side and close my eyes. My thoughts drift to Isabella and our encounter at the lake. Sometimes I wish nothing more than to be normal. I do not need the palace or the nice clothes or guards following me all the time.

I follow through the motions at dinner and over the next couple of days at the palace. By the time we leave for our return home, I am seething below the surface. My detest for this so called arrangement grows more with each mile, mostly because each step brings me closer to my true desire. One that apparently wants absolutely nothing to do with me.

We do not make it to the village until after nightfall. The only fire in the village is at the blacksmith's house. _My_ blacksmith.

"Father, go on ahead, I need to speak with the blacksmith about something." I stop my horse.

"At this hour? Nonsense."

"Yes. At this hour. I will only be a moment."

He yawns, his exhaustion taking over. "Oh, alright, Son."

"Good night, Father."

When he is nothing but a shadow in the darkness, I hop off my horse and approach the house. Isabella stands over the fire, working on what looks like a piece of armor.

"I may need that next time I decide to fight you," I say, hovering near the door.

The heat of the fire flushes my face.

"Sorry if I hurt you." She barely looks up from her work.

"The sword did not hurt so much. However, I fear the rest of it may leave a scar."

"Edward, please." She sets her work down and wipes her brow.

"Stop." I rush to her and gently place my finger over her lips. "I do not wish to hear another reason why you think I have no right to want to be around you." I sigh. "Please." I look over my shoulder, looking for the intruding eyes of the guards I am sure my father commanded to stay with me. "Meet me at sunrise, at the lake."

I leave before she has a chance to object, and head back to the castle. I do not even try to sleep, and then a few hours later, I slip out and sneak down to the lake.

As dawn approaches, I sit on a rock at the water's edge, wondering if I will be watching this sunrise alone. When I hear footsteps behind me, my heart stops.

She's coming from the trees, hands wringing in front of her. We do not speak until she is within reach.

"I am not scared of anything," she says, reaching for me. "But you?" She stutters. "You scare me, Edward."

I breathe a sigh of relief and lean in, wanting nothing more than to place a soft kiss on her forehead. I resist. _You amaze me, Isabella._

* * *

 **A/N: Hi, everyone!**

 **I want to thank The Lemonade Stand for featuring this story in their nursery!**

 **I am now heading into my long stretch of working constantly, so please forgive me if there is a lack of updates the next two weekends. I will do my best to keep on schedule, but considering what I have going on the next two weeks it may not be possible. Thank you for your patience!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Your turn," she says, flicking a stone out over the water.

"Where were you the past few years?"

She pauses, tossing a smooth, small stone between her hands. "With family in France. I just uh, I needed to get away when my father died."

"What did you do while you were there?" I ask.

She smiles, shaking her head. "My turn."

We walk along the edge of the water in silence for a few minutes before she speaks.

"What scares you?"

"How much time do you have?" I joke, sighing. "I am scared of becoming King. I am scared for my sisters and their hearts. I worry for my heart. Being a royal is not all fun and games, Isabella. There is duty and obligation and responsibility. And none of those things give a damn about one's feelings."

"You are trapped," she says. "I know the feeling. Wanting to do things and be someone that you cannot be."

"Who do you want to be, Isabella?" I brush her hair behind her ear and smile.

"Someone my father would be proud of."

I desire to kiss her, but I do not. Not yet.

"Will you come to the castle?" I ask.

"When?"

"Tonight."

"I cannot just come to the castle, Edward." She shakes her head. "Do you forget who I am?"

"I do not." I bite my lip, wishing it was hers instead. "Bring some swords. We will say you are working on some of the tournament prizes."

"But I am not."

I lean down and smile. "Now, you are."

We reach the edge of the village and she immediately distances herself from me.

Jacob eyes us with suspicion, unaware of our meeting. "Where have you two been off to?" He moves a piece of steel into the fire.

Isabella clears her throat. "Prince Edward has asked me to create some pieces for the tournament."

"Has he?" Jacob narrows his eyes at me, knowing all too well my motivations. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

I shake my head at him, unsure of why he would not approve, but he's only looking at his sister. Just then, a band of royal guards march into the village with so much fanfare, the village falls silent.

"Your Highness, there you are. Your Father is looking for you," Francis says.

"I imagine he is." I sigh, frustrated I am unable to continue my conversation with Isabella. "My lady," I turn to her and take her hand, planting a soft kiss on her skin. "I do hope to see you this evening," I whisper, only loud enough for her to hear.

When I arrive home, I am whisked to Father's study, only to find him giddy with excitement.

"My Son, I have such wonderful news. Lady Victoria will be attending the tournament and will be joining us at our seats. Shall I have her seated next to you, Edward?" He grins. While he has not officially announced our engagement to me or to anyone, it is clearly on his mind.

"Actually, I may sit with the village in the stands."

He nearly chokes on his drink. "Why ever would you do that?"

"You say I am the next King, Father, yet you laugh when I wish to spend time with my people."

He grows flustered, his face flushed red and his eyes darting to and fro. "But, my boy, there are certain customs...traditions that must be upheld. I celebrate your enthusiasm for your Kingdom, but it would not be proper. Besides, I have arranged..." He trails off, not wanting to say the words yet.

"What have you arranged, Father?" I ask. I do not want to hear it any more than he wishes to say it right now, but the tiptoe of words is exhausting.

He takes a deep breath. "All shall be revealed in time." He nods. "Where were you this morning?"

"In the village, speaking to the blacksmith. I asked her to make some pieces for the tournament winners. I thought it might be a nice gesture."

"The girl?" He shrugs. "Very thoughtful, Edward. She is quite talented, for a woman, I suppose."

"She is quite talented indeed, for a _person_."

I am anxious throughout dinner and sit mindlessly by the door, watching the minutes go by.

The stomp of horse's hooves alert me to a visitor outside. I stand and straighten my shirt. Then, there is nothing.

After quite a long time, I open the door the palace and peek outside, nearly running into Isabella.

"Oh!" I gasp. "Hello."

"Hello."

"What were you doing out here?" I smile.

"Oh, I just, I did not know. Do I knock?"

The guards beside the door laugh under their breath.

"No, not necessary. Just let the guards know who you are, they will let you in. I told them you were coming. Did you bring some pieces?"

"I did." She gestures back to the horse, where a large satchel hangs over the rear.

I step down to grab them, but the guards rush toward me. "We'll get them, Your Highness."

"Nonsense." With great effort, I sling the satchel over my shoulder and haul it up to the door.

I take Isabella to one of my father's studies and lay her materials out on the large table that spans most of the room. He barely uses this one, I thought it might be the best one.

"So..." She starts.

"So. Would you like a tour of the palace?" I ask.

"I would love one." She smiles and I offer her my arm as we depart. I lead her outside to the gardens, the light outside dim now that the sun has dipped below the trees. We stroll through the Great Hall, which looks very different empty and void of people. As we descend the stairs to the lower tunnels, my mother stops us.

"Edward," she says, smiling. "Who is this?"

"Isabella, Your Majesty." Isabella curtseys.

"The blacksmith's daughter?" Mother asks.

"Yes," Isabella answers.

"I was sorry to hear of his passing, my dear. He was a lovely and talented man. I am sure he taught you well."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Isabella is going to make some pieces for the tournament," I say.

"Oh, how wonderful. Edward, you should pull a few stones so she can add something to them. Those emeralds would be beautiful on a shield."

"That's an idea." I nod. "I was just showing her around the palace before we get started."

"Of course. Enjoy yourselves and it was a pleasure to meet you, Isabella." Mother smiles and continues on her way.

"You wish me to add...emeralds to my work?" Isabella stutters.

"Would rubies be more appropriate?" I ask.

She just laughs.

Once we reach the bottom tunnels, the air turns damp and cold. Moss grows up over the stones of the wall, with torches lighting the way every so often.

"What is this place for?" Isabella asks.

"It's a good place to hide," I say with a smirk. "I used to play down here as a child, getting lost in the endless tunnels. There is one, only one that leads out to a secret place outside the grounds. An escape should we ever fall under attack."

"Where does it go?"

I lean in and whisper. "It's a secret."

She laughs. "Will you tell me someday? I love secrets."

"I promise."

As we round a corner, something ahead stops me dead in my tracks. Isabella gasps.

Even though I can only see half of her body, I know it's Rosalie, pressed up against the wall kissing the servant boy she's so desperately in love with. I swallow the lump in my throat and pull Isabella back toward the way we'd come.

We're both silent the rest of the way back to the study where we'd left her things. The next two hours are filled with dry discussions of our ideas for the tournament. Shields, swords, wall pieces. The weight of what we'd seen sucked the life out of our meeting.

"Listen, Isabella, what you saw." I touch her arm. "Please do not say anything. Father would go crazy knowing she was in love with a-"

"Commoner," she finishes my sentence. "I understand." Her beautiful eyes are sad.

Our conversation does not ease the tension in the room. In fact, it multiplies it. I finally start to feel the consequences of our situation. We're no different from Rose and Emmett. Will we ever have the chance to spread our wings before we're shot dead out of the sky?

We speak briefly, more about the tournament, and then she leaves. She does not want my help carrying her things back out, instead managing herself.

As she rides off into the night, I can't help but wonder how this will work, whatever this is. Am I doomed to a life with someone I do not and could not love? Would I risk everything, my crown and my family, to change my destiny? The simple, and resounding answer to that question; Yes.

* * *

 **A/N: Hellloooooooo, everyone! Thank you for your gracious patience the past couple of weeks with updates. I may ask just a little more from you next week as I get my feet back on the ground and head back on track to get back on the normal schedule.**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter! How are they possibly going to make this work?!**

 **Thank you again for all of the recommendations, for reading, and for sharing your thoughts with me.**


	7. Chapter 7

Isabella visits again two days later, and refuses to discuss anything but the pieces for the tournament. I had not planned on her actually making anything, but it seems as though I have no choice in the matter now.

"Isabella," I murmur, as she goes on about shapes and metals. If it were anyone else, I would be bored out of my mind, but I would listen to her talk about anything.

"Yes, my Lord?" She looks up.

"Is this all necessary?"

"Is what necessary?"

I take a step toward her and she backs away, not allowing me to touch her. "You do know this was all a rouse to see you?"

"I think the ruse has run its course, Edward. If you do not wish me to make anything for the tournament, I will bid you goodnight and see no reason to return."

My chest nearly splits in two. "You see no reason?" I mumble, looking down at the table. "I see." I can barely stand to look at her now. "Why is it so hard for you to accept that I like you, Isabella?"

She begins to collect her things, her cheeks flushed with heat. "You said it yourself. Your Father would go crazy if he knew one of his children was involved with a commoner."

"I was not talking about you."

"It doesn't matter. I am a commoner, Edward. No matter how much you think you care for me, I will always be the girl with ashes on her dress and dirt under her nails." She sighs and surprises me when she takes my hand in hers. She holds it up to her face, examining each finger before placing a soft kiss in the middle. "See?" Her eyes are wet with tears. "No dirt."

Before I can say another word, she disappears through the door and the sounds of hooves rushing away from the castle floats inside.

I pull out a chair and sit, head buried in my hands, so heavy from the weight of everything that it feels like a thousand-pound boulder. The more I sit, the more my sadness fades, replaced by anger and frustration rolling through my body in waves.

"Edward?" Mother sticks her head inside the room. "Wasn't Isabella here?"

"She was." I sigh. "I can't win with her, Mother." I bite my tongue, worried I've already said too much.

She glances behind her and closes the door as she steps inside. "I think it has less to do with winning and more to do with proving that you're not going anywhere, sweetheart. She's a smart girl." She runs her fingers through her hair. "No matter how unfair it may be, her world," she holds out one palm, "And your world," she holds out the other, "Probably seem like they will never and could never be the same." She places both hands over my heart. "Prove to her she's wrong."

"Father has already-"

"Sometimes your father is wrong." She contemplates. "He is wrong a lot of the time, but he was young once. In love once."

"In love still?" I ask.

"Some days I think so." She smiles. "And others he's just as much of a stranger as the day I married him."

I stand, suddenly tired and ready to go to bed.

"Where are you going, my dear boy?" She asks when I start toward my quarters.

"To sleep."

"Nonsense. The tournament starts in a few days, you haven't much time." She kisses my cheek. "Go to her now, Edward. Or you'll regret it for the rest of your life." There's a sadness in her eyes, the memory and regret of her own past. Of lost chances and a lost love.

I nod.

Without a care for the guards or being caught, I run to the stables and pull my horse out into the moonlight.

The village is quiet as I approach, most everyone already asleep in their beds.

The soft glow of a fire catches my eye as I round the corner to the blacksmith's place. I dismount and tie up my horse before running inside.

The room is empty, except for the brilliant flames and the smell of hot metal. In the corner, a nearly completed suit of armor hangs next to a row of swords.

This is her world. Heat and flame and steel. And I can belong in it.

A hammer and stray piece of metal rest against the wall behind the fire. I tug at the strings at the top of my shirt and pull the heavy, suffocating material over my head. The breeze chills my skin beneath my thin, white undershirt.

I grab the hammer and the metal and step toward the fire, the heat blazing and sweat immediately beading on my forehead.

I may not understand or know how to work this piece of metal, but I want to see what she sees. Be completely absorbed in everything she loves and lives. Dance with the flames, for her.

Without another thought, I reach the hammer toward the flame, hissing when the fire brushes against my knuckles as it heats. I hold it there until my skin burns, then pull it away and tap it against the metal. A small dent. I hit it again, this time with force. The impact corrodes the metal, a sharp cavity in the center. I focus on the spot, wondering how it's even possible for her or anyone to take an ugly sheet of nothing and mold it into something beautiful with heat and a stone.

"What are you doing?" Isabella calls from behind me. I drop the hammer and the sheet, and wipe my brow.

I take a step toward her, then another until she's wedged between me and the wall.

My fingers brush over her shoulder and she shivers, watching them trace down her arm to her hand. I take one of her tiny hands, and then the other, and gently pull them up over her head.

"Edward," she whispers. I lean in, nose almost grazing hers. I can tell she's fighting to look away, to deny me and deny herself this one thing both of us have been craving since we met. "Don't."

"Okay." I smirk. "I won't kiss you unless you kiss me first." I release her hands, caress her cheek, finger down her neck and to her collarbone. My hand travels down the front of her dress, between the mountains of her breast and the valley of her stomach below before resting on her hips. I lean in with my lips, following the same path as close as I can without actually touching her. She stops me when I begin to kneel before her, begging her to have me.

She bites her lip and closes her eyes, her hands clenching in the fabric of her dress. They move from her body to my shoulders, pulling me back up on my feet. When she opens her eyes again, we're face to face, my heart beating so loud I can hear it in my ears.

"Why did you do that?" She whispers.

"Do what?"

"Make me want you this bad." She closes the space and presses her lips against mine.

I fall forward, into her and into the wall, desperate to be close to her. Her hands roam my chest, every inch of my skin at attention from her touch. Her mouth invites me in, takes me in, warm and sweet.

My hands find her hips, trail to grip her thighs under her dress and pull her legs up around me as I press her into the wall. My body buzzes, all the way from my fingertips to my toes and I'm convinced I'll explode into a million pieces right then and there.

I leave her lips and settle on her neck, nipping and sucking her skin as her fingers rake through my hair.

And then, just as quickly as it started, we both stop, a mess of heavy breathing and flushed cheeks.

"You are beautiful." I place a soft kiss on her brow and smile.

"I've made a mess of you." She brushes my shirt, no longer a crisp white, but a mix of ash and dirt.

I fight a smile, aching for another kiss. "In more ways than one."

"Bella?" Jacob calls from inside. "What are you doing out there?"

"You should go," Isabella said, her lips pink and swollen. She rushes me outside, grabbing my dress shirt along the way. She is probably right.

"Will you meet me in two days time? At the meadow outside of town?" I ask.

She does nothing but stare for what feels like an eternity, before surprising me with a kiss. "I will."

"Bella?" Jacob calls again.

I smile and untie my horse, swinging me leg over her back as I ride off through the village. Even in the dark of the night, I can see the marks on my hands and dirt under my nails. And for that moment, all is well in _our_ world.

* * *

 **A/N: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! :) Seems like everything is falling into place for our lovebirds, but how long can the Utopia last?**

 **Thank you so much for your support with this story, it means the world!**


	8. Chapter 8

She's late. The sun is high in the sky, beaming down on the blanket and food I brought. A million thoughts run through my head. Jacob found out and convinced her not to come. My father sent guards to follow me and they're blocking the path. Or worse. She's changed her mind about all this.

I lay down and stretch my arms behind my head. The long grass tickles my cheek and in the warmth of the day, I nearly fall asleep.

"Edward?" Isabella calls.

I pop up and turn toward her voice. She's emerging from the trees, a sad smile on her lips.

"Sorry I am late," she says once she reaches the blanket.

I brush her hair out of her face and kiss her cheek.

"I feel like you're always waiting on me."

"And I'd wait forever if you needed me to." I smile. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes." The tension in her body eases and she settles down onto the blanket beside me.

"What did you do yesterday?" I ask.

"Worked most of the morning. Then Jacob and I took the afternoon off and went to the lake."

"My mother used to take me to the lake when I young."

"My father did, as well." She smiles. "We would go at night, when the stars lit up the night sky and reflected perfectly in the lake. I always thought that must be what Heaven is like."

"I always thought Heaven was a big castle up in the clouds, where you got all the sweets you wanted and never got sent to bed early."

"Spoken like a true royal." She laughs and lays back, her hair sprawling in beautiful curls like a crown around her head.

I pluck a grape from our basket and offer it to her. She takes a bite and hums as the sweetness hits her tongue.

I want to kiss her. Badly. Ever since I did two nights ago, it's all I can think about.

I take her hand in mine and lean in, close enough to feel her breath on my lips. "May I kiss you?"

She trembles. "Yes."

The moment I press my lips to hers, she melts into the blanket. My hand trails down her neck and down her shoulders to her side, where it finds its home. Part of me wishes we could stay like this forever, tangled in each other, away from the troubles and responsibilities that find us back in the village.

Desire stirs in the pit of my stomach as my fingers drift south, searching for the feeling of her thigh beneath the fabric of her dress.

She tenses and cowers under me. I immediately pull back, thinking I scared her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I stutter, hands up in the air. "I didn't mean to scare you, Isabella."

"You didn't scare me. I, fell off my horse yesterday and hurt my leg, but I'll be fine." She cannot look at me as she speaks.

She's lying. I do not know how I know, but I know it. Call it instinct or growing up with two sisters, but I know it.

"Try again, my Lady." I raise an eyebrow.

"I am fine." Her defiant eyes challenge me.

Anger flares in my belly, flushing my cheeks with heat. "Did someone do this to you? Did Jacob?"

"Absolutely not!" She snaps. "Jacob would never touch me!" She stands, brushing her dress off. Without another word, she turns and stomps back toward the path to the village.

"Isabella!" I call, running after her. "Bella?"

I follow her all the way back to the blacksmith's place, where she promptly goes inside and shuts the door in my face. Jacob stands outside, watching our exchange, or lack thereof.

"Trouble in paradise, Your Highness?" He asks, a smirk playing on his lips.

"She hurt her leg."

"Aye, she did. Fell off her horse yesterday."

I close my eyes and lean back against the door. "I thought someone hurt her."

Then, he laughs. An actual belly laugh, doubled over, nearly falling onto the ground. "If anyone decided to pick a fight with Bella, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be the one with the marks to show for it."

"Will you just...tell her I'm sorry I ruined our picnic?" I ask.

"Of course. Enjoy the rest of your day, Edward." He heads inside and even though I shouldn't, I hover by the door to listen.

"What did you tell him, Jacob?" Isabella asks.

"I told him the truth. That you fell off your horse yesterday," Jacob says. I sigh. "But it's up to you to tell him the rest of the truth," he continues.

"You know I cannot do that," Isabella says. "What if he tells his father?"

"You think it really matters when they find out?"

"It matters to me. You know that."

Whatever it is, it matters to me too. I just wish I mattered enough to be worth the truth.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for reading! One of the shorter chapters, so apologies on that. Next week's will be longer :)**

 **Thank you for all of your kind words and your love for a blacksmith and her Prince.**


	9. Chapter 9

I mope for the next few days, part of me desperately wanting to venture into the village to see her, but I cannot will myself to go.

With the tournament fast approaching, thankfully I'm kept busy with preparations. I visit the tournament grounds with Father, help Mother with decorations and preparing the menu for our noble visitors.

They do begin to arrive, slowly trickling in from the neighboring kingdoms. Knights and Lords and Dukes. Royalty around every corner of the castle, paying their respects to Father.

One afternoon in particular, while reading with Alice in the library, Father announces her arrival. My _betrothed_. God, I hate the word.

Victoria sways into the library, her dress large enough to take up the entire doorway and low enough to barely be considered proper. I find myself missing the smudges, missing the imperfections and the ashes of Isabella's dress.

"Your Highness." She bows with a smile.

"My Lady." I return the favor, Alice eying me with annoyance from her chair.

"I am quite excited for the tournament." Victoria giggles and turns to Alice.

"You must be Princess Alice, you must be overjoyed with the upcoming events."

"Thrilled," Alice says, unamused.

"I would love a walk through those beautiful gardens of yours. Would you accompany me, Edward?" Victoria asks.

"I am afraid he has a visitor that has just arrived on official tournament business, my dear." Mother steps into the room. "I would be happy to accompany you, if you like. The garden is my favorite place."

"Oh!" Victoria sighs. She knows she cannot refuse my mother, but she is clearly not the company Victoria desired. "Of course, Your Majesty."

I thank my mother with a nod and leave the library. As I approach the main entrance, my heart stops. Isabella stands close to the door, shuffling back and forth between her feet as she stares at the paintings above.

"I was beginning to think you would never speak to me again," I say. She starts toward our regular meeting room without a word. "Or maybe I was not so far off..."

As soon as we're inside, I close the door and turn. Before I can say anything else, she's kissing me. I feel the wetness of tears on her cheeks, which worries me because she doesn't strike me as someone who cries very easily.

"Hey," I whisper against her lips. She finally pulls back and rests her forehead on my chest.

"Please be okay with the fact that I cannot tell you everything yet, Edward. Please."

I sigh. It was okay. A slight annoyance amplified by my nagging curiosity, but it was okay.

"As long as you promise me that no one is hurting you. And as long as you promise to tell me when you can. It is okay." I kiss the top of her head. "Can you stay for a little while?"

"Sure." She smiles and takes my hand for a moment before we leave the room. I take her to the library and find Alice still reading, and our visitor scarce.

"Alice," I say.

"Edward. And Isabella." Her grin is instant. "Pleasure to see you."

"You as well."

"I will give you two some privacy." Alice nods and leaves the room. "I promised Rosalie I would help her with something."

Isabella peruses the shelves, running her finger over the spines of the books. Every once in awhile, she pulls one out and glances at the cover.

"Do you read much?" I ask.

"Not as much as I'd like to, unfortunately. My father taught me when I was a child and he would read to me every night before bed."

I step behind her and reach around to grab a book. "What kind of stories do you like?" I ask.

"Swordfights, knights, magic, love..." She glances back at me. "And a happy ending."

"This one has always been my favorite." I hand her the book. "You may borrow it if you wish."

"Oh, I couldn't."

"Please, I insist."

"Okay." She tucks the book under her arm. "Thank you."

I lean down and brush her hair over her shoulder before placing my lips on her neck.

"And thank you for that," she says.

I envelop her waist in my arms.

"Please sit with me at the tournament," I ask.

She steps out of my embrace. "No."

Her answer is not mean or defensive. Just a simple no.

"Why?"

"What will your father think? What will the rest of the kingdom think?" She shakes her head.

"I do not care what they think. I care what you think. What do you think, Isabella?"

"I think it is not wise to poke a sleeping lion, _Edward_." She sighs. "Listen to me. I want to be with you. I want to see where this goes and spend time with you and..." She blushes. "Kiss you. But we must do this the right way. And I do not think that is the right way. Despite what you think, your Father will not approve. I must prove myself to him."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

She places her palm against my cheek. "I shall win your heart, Edward." She cocks her eyebrow. "One way or another."

"It shall not be a hard battle to win." I lean down to kiss her, but the door creaks open.

"Edward, my dear!" Mother calls, loud enough to alert us to their presence. I quickly, but calmly step away from Isabella and turn. Victoria follows close behind.

"Hello, Mother! How was your walk in the gardens?" I ask. Isabella spots Victoria and her eyes immediately turn to the floor.

"Just lovely. Hello, Isabella. So nice to see you, sweetheart." Mother smiles at Isabella. Victoria stares like she sees a ghost.

"You as well, Your Majesty."

"Lady Victoria, have you met Isabella?" Mother asks.

"I do not believe so," Victoria lies.

"Oh, but you have." I smile. "You spoke at the gala."

Victoria's face goes white. "Oh. I must have forgotten," she mumbles.

"Follow me, Victoria," Mother says, quite enjoying the fact that she's boring Victoria out of her mind. "I shall show you the portrait room. An entire room of paintings of the king! It's glorious!"

Although I invite Isabella to stay for supper, she declines and heads back to the village.

Supper is a bore. I pick at my food with little interest. Alice chatters on as usual, stealing Father's ear for most of the time. Rosalie is distracted, her finger tapping anxiously against the table.

Rosalie and I both retire early, her saying she does not feel well. Which is why I'm surprised to find her room empty when I check in on her later that night. Something looks off. Her wardrobe is open, and completely bare. Her jewels are gone.

I find Alice with Mother and Father in the study.

"Where is Rosalie?" I aks.

Alice immediately speaks. "She's in her room."

"She is-"

"Not feeling well..." Alice glares at me as she finishes my sentence. Incorrectly at that.

I prefer not to argue, mostly because I get the feeling that Alice knows what is going on and doesn't seem to keen on Mother or Father knowing.

I go back to my room and sit by the window, thinking about it all. Out of the corner of my eye, I see two figures slip out to the stables. One is tall and bulky. The other petite, with long blonde hair flowing down her back. They enter the stables and emerge minutes later, each on a horse galloping toward the road.

So, that is Alice's big secret. And mine. At least until the morning.

"Good for you, Rosie. Good for you."

* * *

 **A/N: So Rosalie finally reached her breaking point! No one was going to make her marry someone she didn't love. I wonder if Edward will follow suit? :)**


	10. Chapter 10

The screaming starts early the next morning, just after sunrise. I imagine Father realizes Rose is gone. And I also imagine Alice finally told him, now that she's given Rose enough of a head start.

I'm pulled out of bed, way before I'm ready to be awake, and thrust into a conversation I'm already irritated with.

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Father asks. "I saw her last night, where has she gone?"

Alice and I sit at Father's table in his study, feeling like we are five years old again being scolded for lying about who broke the two hundred year old vase.

"You really have to ask that question, Father?" I ask, rubbing my brow. I'm overwhelmed with exhaustion and bored with this petty dance with him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He snaps. His cheeks grow more flushed with each passing moment.

"Your auctioning off your children, with no regard to their desires or wishes or life and then wonder why they choose to sneak out in the middle of the night. It's preposterous."

"Do not mock my decisions, boy!"

"I do not mock them." I stand and walk so I am toe to toe with him. "I despise them." I begin to walk out of the room, no longer interested in listening to his tirade. "She was in love with the servant boy, Father. Every one knew." I sigh. "By the way, I know about your plans with Victoria. And I will do no such thing."

"Do not forget your place in this world, Edward! You shall if I command it!"

"Try me." I've grown tired of his attitude and schemes, regardless if he is the King or my father. I will not accept him playing my matchmaker or making every decision in my life. I do not want that for me and I do not want that for my sisters.

Maybe we could run away. Alice. Me. Isabella. Would she go with me if we ran? I do not know where we would go or where we would live, but we would be free. The very thought lifts a tremendous weight from my shoulders.

I hover by the door, unwilling to leave Alice along there with him. I would never expect him to hurt her, physically, but the man's verbal hits are worse than a slap in the face.

"Alice," I say.

Father watches, eyes wide and wild, as she rises from the table. When she passes him, she tentatively pops up on her toes and kisses his cheek, although I am not sure he deserves such kindness, especially from an angel like Alice.

When I return to my room, I pace in circles, my palms numb from anger. I wish nothing more than to see Isabella right now, hold her in my arms, kiss her. Feeling her next to me is the single most freeing thing in the world. And right now, I need to be free.

I pull open the door, unsure of where I intend to go, but it does not matter. One of the guards stands outside my quarters.

"Prince Edward," he greets.

"Arthur." I nod. So this is how it shall be. Imprisoned in my own home.

"The King and Queen will be visiting the practice fields this afternoon and wish you to attend. Lady Victoria will be there as well, at the special request of your father."

"Just to spite me I suppose." I shake my head and close the door, retreating back into solitude until it is time to go.

By the time we make it to the village, most of the participants of the tournament are down at the grounds practicing and preparing for the event. Mother, Father, Alice and I, along with Victoria tour the area, meet briefly with the men. Greeting each one, and wishing them the best of luck with the tournament. If history repeats itself, at least one of them will be dead or mangled.

"May I present, Sir Jasper, Your Majesties." The tournament cryer introduces a tall, blond knight. He bows to Mother and Father, and takes Alice by the hand. For the first time since we arrived, she perks up, her eyes wide with a slight blush coloring her cheeks. She likes the fellow. Alice has never been boy crazy, not like Rose.

"Sir Jasper, is it?" I interrupt with a smile.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Where do you come from, Sir?"

"Northern France, just outside of Calais."

"So pleased you could join us, I wish you the best of luck." I keep an eye on Alice, who is still infatuated with the boy.

Someone else catches my eye. A girl darting from under the stands, a determined stomp in her stride and her dark hair tied into a loose braid over her shoulder.

"Excuse me, please." I do not give Father time to argue, or give Victoria a suitable goodbye, but quickly rush toward Isabella. As I get closer, I see she has a cut just under her eye, in the middle of a nasty looking bruise.

"What's this?" I ask, grabbing her wrist ever so gently as she walks past. She was so set on her path that she did not even see me.

"Edward." She gasps. "I did not expect you here."

"I am happy to see you as well, my love." I smile in jest. "What's this?" I brush my finger over her injury, but all she does is purse her lips.

"I fell into a table this morning." She says, peering up at me. Lie.

I touch her face again and she stiffens.

"Someone will see you," she whispers, pulling away.

"Then take me where we can be alone."

She glances behind me at my parents, and thankfully Victoria, are too absorbed in meeting the next knight that they've momentarily lost sight of me.

I follow her into the stables, where we're surrounded by horses and hay, but otherwise alone. I tell her about Rosalie and Victoria and my father's inquisition this morning, all the while growing more angry about our current circumstances.

"We could do it, you know? We could run away like Rosalie did. We could be together without watching our backs, without being worried that someone won't approve. We could."

"I cannot do that right now, Edward."

"Why not?" I lean in and kiss her cheek, hoping that will convince her. I would run. I would do it, right now, this instant. We could take one of these horses here and just go. It could be over. This horrendous, suffocating thing could be over.

"It's not a good time."

"Not a good time?" I sit back. "When will be a good time for you, Isabella? After my marriage to that selfish woman? After I am forced into doing the last thing that I want? I cannot stay here and be happy."

"And I cannot leave and be happy. Not now. There is too much going on with the tournament." There is something she is not telling me. Is it Jacob? Is she worried about leaving him or her father's house?

"Damn the tournament! And Jacob can manage on his own. He managed without you for years, I do not think-"

"Isabella? Are you in here, you need one more..." Sir Jasper steps into the stables and freezes, spotting us. "Oh. I am sorry, I did not mean to interrupt."

Isabella clears her throat and distances herself from me. "You did not."

"You two know each other?" I ask.

"My family in France works for Sir Jasper's family," Isabella says quickly.

"Oh! What a coincidence." I cross my arms. "You said she needed something? One more..."

"I am making his armor for the tournament. We were testing it out. See that bruise on her face? Damn horse nearly ran her over. Pardon, my language, Your Highness."

"A horse?" I look to Isabella. "That's interesting." Now that I have officially caught her in her lie, I wonder what she will do.

"I shall wait for you outside," Jasper says, his eyes dancing between the two of us.

As soon as he leaves, I turn to her. "A horse or a table, what was it?"

"Edward..."

"I know I said I can wait until you're ready to tell me, but I cannot. I will not!" I scream, knowing full well that someone could hear me. Something inside flares red as a flame, burning so deep in the pit of my stomach that I do not care if anyone hears or sees us right now. This lie, this parasite insider her, is killing me. Not slowly, mind you. Quickly. Painfully.

"Please, just..." She shakes her head, stuttering. "I beg you, please."

"What!"

"Can't I just be enough for now?" She throws her arms around me and buries her head in my chest.

I do not say anything, but as my anger cools, I kiss the top of her head, hoping she knows that she is more than enough. But I cannot take this darkness, this unknown part of her life, for much longer. I've shared my fears, my hopes, my desires with her. I want her to be able to do the same in return.

"I will prove myself," she whispers.

"Why do you think you have to prove anything to me?" I hold her tighter. "I am falling in love with you just the way you are, just you, being you."

She pulls back and smiles. "Do not flatter yourself, my Lord. I know I do not need to prove anything to you and that means the world to me. I was talking to myself."

"Yourself? What do you mean?"

She perks up on her toes and kisses me, before skipping out of the stables. I stand there for a few moments, stunned and confused. But why should I be surprised? She has confounded me in the best and worst ways since the moment I met her.

When I leave the stables, Jasper is still waiting there.

"I expect you'll be discreet about what you saw and heard, Sir Jasper?" I say.

"And what did I see and hear, Your Highness? The stables were completely empty." He smiles.

"Thank you." I nod and return to my family. Across the way, I finally see Isabella and Jasper walking toward the woods.

"That Sir Jasper is an interesting young man, Edward..." Mother starts.

Isabella glances my way and I swear even from here, I see her smile.

"Strangest thing," she continues. "He said his cousin is entering the tournament as well, but no one has seen him or knows who he is."

Something tugs in the pit of my stomach as Isabella and Jasper disappear into the trees. The bruises. The lying. The unwillingness to leave before the tournament. But surely, it cannot be? Can it?

The possibility rushes through my head. "That is interesting."

* * *

 **A/N: So this was a larger chapter (in many ways). The reason for that is that I am heading on vacation next weekend, and there is a high possibility that there will be no updates while I'm gone. Because as much as I love you guys and this story, I'm going to be in London, which is one of my favorite cities on the planet and unfortunately I'm going to be out busy enjoying it while I'm there. I will be back the week of the 21st, and hope to have an update out that week. Thank you for your patience, you guys are awesome and I'm so lucky to have you!**

 **What do you think about Edward starting to piece things together and his theory on Bella's secret?**


	11. Chapter 11

The next day, I sneak down to the practice grounds unaccompanied and hide under the stands. I know I won't see Isabella there, not out in the open anyway. But I pray I am able to find a way to speak with her about her plans.

I sit for hours, chewing on some bread and watching the knights train with their squires, throwing combative looks at the others.

The tournament starts in two days, so I have two days to convince Isabella not to go through with it, whatever it is. My father is in a most foul mood, and I cannot imagine him taking kindly to her situation even when he is happiest. I fear for her, but I fear more knowing that there may be probably nothing I can do to get her to back down.

Jasper appears at the edge of the trees, glancing back into the emptiness of the branches like he is bidding someone farewell. That someone is precisely whom I wish to see.

I wait until he is out of sight, then creep along the tournament grounds to the forest. I slip inside, where he'd come from and walk along the small path just there.

I hear her before I see her, a frustrated groan and the thud of metal against wood.

Before the hill, I crouch down behind an old stump so she cannot see me. I bite my lip, feeling like I am intruding on a private moment that I should not be seeing. It makes me feel sore that I am spying on her. God, is she beautiful.

She wears trousers, which is unusual to start off. Her hair is tied back into a single place at the back of her neck, the sides nearly falling out and sticking to her face. She raises the sword above her head again and swings it around, circling her body and swooping around swiftly and gracefully. It smacks against the dead tree, alongside the several chunks missing from the trunk, hours worth of practice.

I close my eyes and bury my head in my hands. I cannot let her go through with this. I cannot. But now, watching her, seeing her with the sunlight kissing her skin in lines through the trees. I do not know how I can tell her no.

"You must," I whisper. "He will punish her."

I shift my weight, and wince when I hear the branch snap under my feet. She whirs around as I duck behind the bush.

"Hello?" She calls, sticking her sword into the dirt. "Who is there?" She takes a step forward and I hold my breath. "Jasper?" She peers out into the trees, thankfully unable to see me. Once she's convinced that there is no one there, she returns to her practice.

The debate in my mind rages on. Do I approach her now or confront her later? What could I possibly say to her that will change her mind? Shall I beg? Command her to stop. I do not know that either would help, but I cannot and will not stand by idly and watch her condemn herself for the sake of a tournament.

I stand and wait.

She spins, catches sight of me and immediately stops, dropping her sword to the ground. Moments pass, neither of us saying a word. I do not know whether she or I breathe at all.

"I knew someone was watching me," she concedes.

I do not answer, mostly because I do not know what to say.

"You followed me?"

"What are you doing, Isabella?" I say, finally finding my voice.

"I expect that you know that already, Edward."

Instead of speaking from my heart, with love and compassion, I speak from my enraged mind as it goes through every possible outcome of this situation. "I forbid it."

"You forbid it?"

"You cannot possibly understand the consequences-"

"I understand perfectly well," she interrupts.

"If you think this is some attempt to win me, there is no need. You've already won." I speak quickly, hoping the more I do the more she'll understand. With each passing second, my fear for her grows.

"Despite what you think, my Lord, not everything is always about you." Her tone mocks me, but the anger has faded. She takes a few steps closer and lays her hand upon my chest. "And although it pleases me greatly to hear that I have your heart, I must do this for myself. There is no forcing me otherwise."

"I will tell my Father."

"You will?"

She and I both know that is a lie. I would never betray her trust. Ever.

"He will throw you in a cell, Isabella...or worse!" I try not to think about what "worse" would mean. I cannot bear the thought. "It is forbidden for someone of non-royal lineage to compete."

"Do not forget that I am also a woman." She smirks.

"You think this is amusing? Your life and my heart hang in the balance and if I'm being selfish, so be it. Please. I beg you."

"Edward. You claim I do not understand, but it is you." She takes my hand and brings it to her lips. "When I was a child, I watched the tournament from the stands, bursting with so much excitement that Father could barely get me to sit still. I yearned to be there, in armor, fighting for honor. There was something inside me that lit a fire in my heart, my love. And that fire will continue to burn in my chest until I let it out." She sighs and close her eyes. "If I do not do this, I will regret it for the rest of my life." She lowers her voice. "Do not make me resent you for it."

She kisses my cheek, passes by me and continues through the trees, leaving her sword in the dirt. I lean over and pick it up, the hilt heavy in my hands. On the side, a saying in simple letters.

 _"_ Je suis digne _,_ " I read, sighing in contemplation.

 _I am worthy_.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for your patience during this brief hiatus, you all are lovely. I had a wonderful time visiting London and Belfast and other than bringing home a nasty cold, I am glad to be back!**

 **Is everyone as nervous about the tournament as Edward and I are? Yikes, B, I hope you have a plan in place for what to do when Carlisle finds out who you are.**

 **Special thank you to France Morrissette from Facebook who helped me out with the line of French in this chapter. Hopefully should be back to a normalish update schedule, however I am moving to my first house (Yay!) in the next couple of weeks so please forgive me if life gets in the way and I'm a few days late during this time.**

 **See you next time!**


	12. Chapter 12

I do not sleep. I cannot. The worry plagues me like a heavy shield settling on my chest.

I pace back and forth in my room, so absorbed in my thoughts that I do not notice my mother standing in the doorway.

"What troubles you, sweetheart?" She asks. I jump, startled.

I trust my mother. I trust her with my life, more importantly I trust her with my heart. But I will not put her in a position where she must lie to my father. Because I know she will, she would do anything for me.

"Mother, what would you do if you knew something horrible was going to happen, but you could not do anything to stop them?" I ask.

"Them or it?"

I clear my throat. "It."

"Well, my dearest, if there's nothing we can do to change the world, we must find a way to live in it. It is up to you which way you choose to do so."

"And if living through it breaks my heart?"

She smiles sadly, and walks over to me. "I pray it does not, my dear child, a heart is a terrible thing to waste." She brushes a stray hair from my face. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No." I kiss her cheek. "But I must go. Good night, Mother."

I hurry down to the stables, not caring that I run right past the guards. I'm by them so quickly that they barely have time to process my escape. They're rushing to the stables as I mount my horse, but I'm off and into the darkness before they can even free their horses from the ropes.

I do not think about the ride into town. No, my mind is elsewhere, wondering what I can possibly say or do to make her change her mind.

The moon is high in the sky by the time I make it to the blacksmith's house. The fires are out, the house quiet in the stillness of the night. No one is out in the village. They are probably all asleep, preparing for the excitement of the tournament.

One of the side shutters is open, curtain flowing in the brisk night air. I take a chance and peek inside. A candle burns low on a table beside the modest bed. In the bed, a sleeping figure slumbers softly, shoulders rising and falling with their breath.

I dare not approach the door. Jacob would not be pleased to find me calling on his sister this late.

"Isabella," I whisper, watching the door across the room. "Isabella!" I say a little louder.

The figure in the bed turns and my breath catches in my throat when I see who it is. Jacob. Not Isabella.

I depart from the window and walk gently around the back of the house. Up on the second story, another light, brighter than the candle in Jacob's room. A ladder, lying sideways in the grass, is my step to Heaven above.

I carefully lay the ladder against the house and begin to climb, closer and closer to my heart.

When I reach the top, I peer inside. Isabella sits at the edge of her bed, combing through her hair.

"You took longer than I imagined," she says, glancing up at me.

"What?" I ask. "How did you?..."

"I expected more of a fight, Edward. I thought you'd chase me, lock me up, force me not to do it. Not let me out of your sight until this tournament was over."

When she put it that way, it reminds me of someone I know. Someone playing puppet master with other peoples' lives, with no regard to their feelings. As much as it will destroy my heart to watch her go through with this, I will not destroy hers by stopping her from doing so. Not like my father does to the people he supposedly loves. I would fear her resentment every day for doing so. In that moment, I know that I'm going to let her do this, even if it kills me. I just pray it does not kill her.

"Do you understand how much I adore you?" I climb inside and step toward her. "How I would do anything for you? How my entire being comes alive when I'm around you?"

Her fingers brush against my stomach and a shiver rushes through my body. "I love you, too," she whispers, smiling.

I lean down and kiss her, deep and hard, pouring everything I am and everything I feel onto her soft lips.

She surprises me, pushing me down onto her bed and straddling my waist in one quick motion. Her hair falls over her shoulder, tickling my chest ever so lightly.

"This feels indecent," I muse, quirking my eyebrow.

"I am sorry, my Lord." She leans down and I groan as her teeth tug on my ear. She pulls the bottom of her night dress up her thighs, so it rests just at her waist. "Is this better?" She whispers.

"Much, much more indecent." I smirk, pulling her down to me, my hands finding their home on her bare thighs. Her soft skin pulls me in, my fingertips aching to explore every inch of her.

She hums against my lips as I dip under her nightdress into the warmth of her. Her breath quickens, chest heaving against mine.

"Edward," she moans, bucking her hips against my palm. "I want you inside me."

"Your brother is asleep downstairs." I glance toward the door, already anxious of being discovered. I do not think Jacob would take too kindly to finding me in his sister's bed with my hand up her dress. But God, it feels so good.

"I do not care. Will you deny me?" She kisses me again.

I flip her over onto the bed and hover over her trembling body. Starting at her toes, I kiss the length of her leg, brushing my lips over her soft and quick. When I reach the fabric of her night dress, I pull it up as I go, placing a long kiss where my fingers had been moments before, before working my way up.

A long, red scar sits just above her hipbone.

"Leaned over a hot iron when I was young," she explains. "It is ugly, I know."

"You're beautiful," I mumble.

She smiles, lifting her arms above her head as I pull the dress the rest of the way off. My hands find their way to her breasts as she rushes to get my shirt off. Frantically pulling at the shoulders, it goes up over my head and I shake it off onto the floor.

She circles my chest, her nails digging slightly into my flesh as I work on my trousers, hastily kicking them off to join my shirt.

I fall on top of her, kissing her again as my hips move against hers, aching for more. I reach between us, glancing up at her one more time to make sure that this is okay, that this is what she wants. And right now, we both want each other more than anything else in the world.

As I push myself inside her, her body goes rigid and I wonder if I am hurting her.

"Are you alright?" I ask, panicked.

She nods her head. "I am not one of those porcelain dolls, Edward. You will not break me." She's breathless, panting as she pulls me down for another kiss. "Although I will not mind if you try." She smiles against my lips and locks her legs around me.

I thrust inside her, hard and fast, so much that it rattles the bed against the wall. I look at the door once more, expecting to hear footsteps clamoring up the stairs. I hear nothing.

"Again," she moans.

I do it again. And again. Until we find a rhythm all our own. One that drives me mad, tumbling into a dark place where all I see and feel is her around me.

"Isabella." I tremble, nipping at her neck. For a split second, nothing and everything matters. The chaotic world around me makes sense. Every question, every fear, every ounce of doubt I have in my body is gone. For now.

Her legs clamp around me and she cries out just before my hand clamps over her mouth. I hate to quiet her. I want her to scream. I want to know that I did that to her. But it will have to wait.

I come shortly after her, collapsing onto her chest, my heart beating like a big drum against my skin.

"Did I break you?" I ask, kissing her breast.

"Yes," she says, laughing under her breath. "In the best way."

We both fall asleep almost instantly, and I wake hours later to the first light of morning to an empty bed. Isabella sits in her chair, one of the blankets wrapped around her naked body. Her sword in her hands, she studies it, tossing it back and forth between her palms.

"Promise me something," I say.

"Anything." She looks over her shoulder and smiles.

"Think of me." I nod. I may be a selfish bastard, but I am a selfish bastard who wants the girl he loves to live. "When you are up there, ready to fight. Think of me." What I am really saying is, don't be foolish. Think of me. Think of our love. And do not let anyone take that from us.

Footsteps up the stairs make my heart stop. My clothes on the floor, all I can do is duck under the blanket to hide myself. Not very well, I may add.

"Morning, Sister." Jacob knocks and opens the door.

"Jacob!" Isabella says, I imagine pulling the blanket tighter around her.

"Bloody Hell, Bella!" The door slams shut. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing? This is my room, I am allowed to be naked in it!"

"Not when there is a man in there with you! I saw your clothes, Edward!"

I throw the blanket off me and frantically try to put my clothes back on. I scramble to the ladder before he decides to come back in the room, kissing Isabella as I go.

"Will I see you before the tournament?" I whisper.

"I do not know." Sadness fills her eyes. "But I promise." She nods, eluding back to my request. "Always."

As I descend, she kisses me once more and disappears from the window. When my feet hit the ground, I start running toward my horse. Jacob's voice bellows from above. "Just because you're a royal, do not think I won't hurt you, Your Highness!"

Despite his threat, I do not worry about Jacob. I have bigger worries that plague my mind. And they all start in a few hours time. Let the tournament begin.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi, everyone! I hope most of you follow me on Facebook so you were able to get updates on the status of this chapter. For those of you who don't (come say Hi if you're on Facebook :)) I moved into my new house and had an absolutely HORRENDOUS time getting my internet set up. I just got it all set this past weekend, so I got this chapter out as soon as I possibly could. Hopefully should be able to return to a semi normal update schedule now. Thank you for your patience and I apologize it took so long!**

 **And as Edward says...Let the tournament begin!**


	13. Chapter 13

I go through the motions of a prince attending a grand tournament. I get dressed. Meet my parents and Alice, and unfortunately Victoria down in the Great Hall and we travel together to the tournament grounds. Victoria insists on sitting beside me on the way, and Father does not argue. I feel her eyes on me the entire time, but my head and my heart are elsewhere. They're with my dark haired beauty.

We pass through town, and the people are alive with joy and revelry. They cheer as we pass, oblivious to both my and Alice's discomfort. My sister has spirit, but she relies entirely too much on pleasing people and I am worried it will seal her fate. I tried so many times to go to her, to tell her to run, that I would help her. But I fear I have been too wrapped up in my own misfortunes to make it happen.

The stands are nearly full by the time we arrive, with lines and lines of people standing along the side of the grounds. It's hot, the sun squarely overhead. Sweat beads on my forehead and my palms, a small drop tickles the side of my face.

I immediately search for her among the practicing knights and lords, but I know she will not be there. She would not chance discovery before she was allowed to compete. I did, however, see Sir Jasper.

The moment our eyes connected, he knew I wished to speak with him.

Once we were off our carriage, we walk toward our seats, occasionally greeting the villagers. Mother and Father out of formality, me for the pleasure of it all. Victoria follows me as though she is my shadow.

Jasper finds me before I start up the stairs of the stands. I glance back at Victoria and urge her ahead.

"I have some business to attend to, my Lady. Please excuse us." I nod slightly and she hurries up, giddy with delight. As soon as she is out of sight, I turn my attention to Jasper. "Where is she?"

"Under the stands, just there." He points to the stands opposite ours. "She will join the ranks at introduction."

"And who will she be introduced as, exactly?"

"You have heard of my dear cousin from France, Your Highness?" Jasper smirks.

"Jasper, I know I am not your prince and you owe no allegiance to me, but I hope you feel as though you owe an allegiance to her. Take care of her in this tournament."

"I would not have trained her to compete if I did not believe she could do it, _my_ Prince." He bows and joins the others.

I search the opposite stands once more before joining my family up in the stands. Even though I step out of the sunlight, I am still sweating as though I am standing in fire.

I take a deep breath and sit between my mother and Victoria. Alice settles beside Father, seemingly distracted by someone on the grounds. I follow her gaze and find her subject is the blond-haired boy I just spoke to. Her eyes widen with excitement and joy at his presence. He sees her too, I notice. A wave so small, no one would notice it unless they were looking for it.

I lean back and sigh. So that is why she came willingly. My dear sister is in love with a knight. I know Alice. She would rather take a chance on him winning the tournament than runaway without him. For her sake, I hope her abnormally correct intuition strikes again.

A trumpet sounds, signaling the beginning of the opening ceremony, where the competitors are presented.

Victoria leans over and smiles. "Are you excited?"

"Ecstatic." I do not mind that the distaste shows in my voice. I am so nervous I can barely breathe.

"Your Majesties," the caller announces. "Lords, Ladies, and all others." His smile flashes brilliant to the crowd. "Welcome to the Grand Tournament hosted by the Great King Carlisle and his Queen Esme. Our tournament will consist of three days of games for your entertainment, ending in the ever-exciting melee a pied for the remaining contestants. The declared winner at the culmination of the tournament wins a mighty prize." The crowd cheers and all eyes fall on Alice. "The lovely Princess Alice will be yours to call your own, my Lords."

I begin to nip at my fingers, anxious. My heart beats so loud that I swear I hear it over the roar of the crowd.

"Shall we begin?" The caller smirks. "The joust!" He paces back and forth as he speaks. "Consists of three runs...if both competitors last that long. One point will be awarded for breaking a lance on the chest, two for breaking one on the helmet, and a full three points awarded for unhorsing your opponent. If you unhorse your opponent, my brave knights, the match is over and you have won."

I think of Isabella on her horse, her tiny frame carrying the heavy lance as her opponent rushes toward her. The very thought chills me to my core. My thoughts drift away as he explains the day. Winners play winners play winners until the third and final round of the joust happens tomorrow. I know how it works.

"Points from the joust will carry to the melee, where first place shall receive a full ten points," he ends. "May I introduce our courageous competitors?"

Another cheer from the crowd pulls me from my thoughts.

The knights have lined up across from us, dressed in full armor, their faces obscured by their helmets. I know her right away. The smallest one, right at the end.

I watch her move up, closer to us, as the others are announced.

"Sir Jasper, of Aquitaine!"

I perk up as Jasper is announced. Isabella is the only one left.

"And finally, Sir Charles of Provence!"

"So there he is," Victoria muses. "The mysterious Sir Charles."

Isabella takes her place beside the others. In spite of her small size, her armor fits her perfectly and I pray it will protect her.

The caller announces the first joust duel, Jasper against a knight from a Kingdom to the West. Part of is thankful she is not the first, but the other part wishes it would be over so I could stop worrying.

I see now something I did not before. A small piece of blue fabric tied around Jasper's lance. Alice's kerchief.

I glance down at my sister and smirk, despite my nervousness.

As the horn blows, both men rush toward each other, their horses galloping at full speed toward the middle of the grounds. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Isabella watching anxiously. Where most of the knights have removed their helmets, hers stays put, sealing her identity behind the steel.

Jasper's lance hits his opponent square in the chest, flinging him back onto the rear of horse. Not quite an unhorsing.

The knight's crew tends to his injuries, which are quite severe. In a few minutes time, he is bandaged and on his horse again, ready for the next round.

Alice's kerchief rips wildly back in the rush of the wind as Jasper pushes forward again.

I hold my breath as they meet, but see there is no need for it. Both competitors miss their opponent and continue on to the end of the grounds.

Jasper sweeps off his horse and in one bound, picks a stray wildflower and is back on his steed again. As he retreats back to his starting point, he stops briefly at the stands and hands it to a blushing Alice. The crowd roars. Everyone loves a good love story, and a knight fighting for his lady is just that.

Father witnesses the exchange with curiosity. I fear what may happen if Jasper does not win this tournament, and I fear for what will happen if he does. For that means Isabella has not.

I miss the third run, caught up in my thoughts, but from the cheers and Alice's smile, Jasper has won. His opponent lays facedown on the ground, writhing in pain.

"Our next match, Lords and Ladies, Your Majesties." The caller bows. "Sir Charles against Sir Arthur!"

My blood turns to ice, sending a chill through my entire body. The next few moments may determine her fate, and mine. I pray it does not break her, for it would be no different than ripping out my own heart. And as Mother says, a heart is a terrible thing to waste.

* * *

 **A/N: And the tournament has begun! Who do you think is going to win it? If Jasper wins, Isabella could get hurt or worse, discovered and punished. If Isabella wins, she could still be discovered and Jasper will not win Alice's hand. Debacle!**


	14. Chapter 14

"Competitors, ready?" The caller yells. Isabella and her opponent both nod their heads.

The horn sounds, a soaring echo into the air. My hand grips the wooden armrest beneath, so hard I would not be surprised if it cracked under my grip.

The world moves slowly now. I blink. Isabella's horse rears up, ready for the charge. I blink. The dust billows behind them. I blink. Her lance begins to drop into place. I blink. And then, all at once, everything speeds up again, so fast that I can barely keep up.

The opponents roar toward one another, lances ready, crowd in applause. Just before they come within reach of each other, Isabella drops her lance, and my heart drops along with it.

"No!" I start to jump from my seat, but I keep myself grounded, holding onto my chair with everything I have. I look to my left, wondering if my father has caught my slip, but the noise from the crowd and the action before him has him distracted.

Alice, on the other hand, stares right at me with wide eyes. "Just breathe," she mouths.

The sound of wood against metal breaks my thoughts, pulling my attention back to the grounds. Isabella hunches over her horse, in obvious distress. Part of me thinks it is better that I did not see the blow. I do not know that I could have bared it.

Jasper's aide rushes to her side as she reaches the end of the run, and a tournament hand runs to the court to get her fallen lance.

I want nothing more than to go to her now, my Father be damned. Jasper catches my attention and shakes his head before attending to her. He's keeping his promise. He's keeping her safe. I hope.

"That was quite a hit, I fear," Victoria murmurs, touch my arm. "I do hope the man is alright."

"As do I," I say, biting on my cheek so hard that I taste the bitter tinge of blood.

Isabella takes a few moments to compose herself and then straightens up, seemingly ready to ride again. Jasper hands her the lance, and she turns again, preparing for the horn.

"One point has been awarded to Sir Arthur. Competitors ready?" The caller announces.

Isabella and Arthur nod. The horn sounds, and this time I force myself to watch.

As the riders converse, Isabella's lance drops into place just in time, hitting Arthur square in the chest. He falls back, tumbling off the back of his horse as his lance falls to the ground. Unhorsed.

"Dear God, she's done it," I whisper. The shrill screams of the crowd erupt around me, cheering for Isabella's win.

"Bravo, Sir Charles!" Father claps, laughing with Mother as Isabella rides gallantly in front of our seats. She nods to my father, and even though I cannot see her eyes behind the armor, I know she looks my way. I cannot help but smirk, no matter how much I try to hide it. _Bravo, indeed_.

The remaining knights do a lap in front of the cheering crowd before retiring behind the grounds. Unfortunately, not all were so lucky. As we leave our seats and pass by one of the tents, the scream of a man in absolute pain echo in my ear. Thankfully, no deaths have been reported, but I would imagine some men are very hurt. At least one was carted away with the tip of their opponents lance sticking out of their shoulder. I shiver at the thought.

Once we're back at the castle, I keep myself occupied until the gathering later that evening. Knights and their guests only. Jasper was kind enough to bring Isabella as his guest so I may see her without raising suspicion.

I am able to break free of Victoria as the guests arrive, but I do not see Isabella right away.

I find myself alone in a corner, hiding and drinking ale as the others talk amongst themselves.

"Your Highness," a soft sweet voice calls from beside me. I smile.

"Milady." I nod to Isabella, as she attempts a curtsey. She winces halfway down and my smile drops. She is hurt.

I grab her gently by the arm and lead her down a small passageway to the side of the hall.

"Are you hurt badly?" I ask.

"No." She grimaces as I touch her side. I narrow my eyes at her. _Liar_.

"It is really not that bad, Edward, I promise."

I take her face in my hands. "I nearly jumped out of my seat when the lance hit you."

"He didn't do it as hard as I asked him to."

I pull back. "What?"

"Sir Arthur and I, see we had an arrangement."

"What kind of arrangement?"

"He has no interest in winning this tournament, for he loves another. His parents forced him into it, merely trying to advance their station if he were to marry Alice. He is an old friend of Jasper's, and approached me saying he was going to throw the competition. I could not let him do that without getting a hit in, Edward...his parents, it would be an embarrassment, especially after..."

"It's discovered that Sir Charles isn't a Sir at all?"

"That is well and noble of you, Isabella, although I do wish you would be more careful." I kiss her forehead. "You could have told me."

"You would have protested."

"Of course I would have. But you still could have told me. Will you be alright to ride tomorrow?"

"With rest, yes. The local healer suggested I take a warm bath, but I fear all we have is the cauldron we use for our metal."

"I can remedy that." I lean down and kiss her lips, missing the taste of her.

"I like the sound of that," she murmurs, nibbling on my lower lip.

"But I fear that must wait until later. We must make an appearance before someone comes looking for us."

We separate as we emerge back into the hall, and go our own ways...for now.

I mingle among the crowd, drinking more ale as I keep a wandering eye on the beautiful lady across the room. She follows Jasper mostly, as his guest. I see Sir Arthur, looking quite worse for the wear, speaking to them both.

I am distracted for awhile, talking to Alice, my mother, and a dear friend of hers, when Jasper taps my shoulder.

"Prince Edward." He bows.

"Sir Jasper." I smile. "Great showing today at the tournament, congratulations on your advancement." I eye his silent exchange with Alice and take another sip of ale.

"I trust Sir Charles has informed you of the arrangement from today," Jasper says.

"Indeed." I glance over and see Isabella is still talking to Arthur and another gentleman. "That man there looks familiar."

"Prince George, Sire. From a small kingdom west of France."

"Ah, yes." Sir Arthur grazes Prince George's arm and smiles. I know that kind of smile. It's the same way I look at Isabella. "He and Arthur are friends?"

"Yes." Jasper gives me a knowing look and takes a drink of his ale.

 _He loves another_ , Isabella had said.

The party goes well into the night, but I retire before everyone leaves. I find Isabella perched at a table talking to Jasper.

"Wait here," I whisper, in passing, as I head to my quarters. I find two servants along the way. One, I ask to prepare the baths. The other, to fetch Isabella so we may discuss her tournament pieces. Neither know any better.

The first comes to me in the hall and tells me the baths are ready.

"I will wait outside the room for you, my Lord," he says. It is customary, but tonight unnecessary.

"No," I say. "I need privacy please, stand down the hallway at the entrance to this part of the castle. No one is to enter, do you understand?"

"Yes, Sire." He nods and quickly disappears.

Moments later, the second servant appears with Isabella in tow.

"Leave us. I will escort the lady out when we have finished our conversation."

Once he is gone, I take her hand. "I will lead you back out. Turn down the corridor to the left, behind a red tapestry, there is a door. Make sure you are not seen. Understood?"

"Yes, my Lord."

We walk back up the corridor, so the first servant at the entrance will see her leave.

"Good Evening, Isabella," I say. She bows, nods to the servant, and continues down the corridor as I instructed. "Remember, no one is to enter," I say to the servant. He nods.

I return down the corridor until I come to the door of the baths. I do not come here often, no one does, but it is beautiful.

I open the door to a blanket of warm, humid air. In front of me, a large stone edge, sinking into a steaming pool of water nearly half the size of the room. Above the bath, a magnificent stained glass window, floor to ceiling. Torches surround the bath, reflecting the blues, yellows, and reds of the stained glass back into the room.

A creak in the corner catches my attention, and Isabella appears from behind the twin tapestry.

"This is amazing," she says, captivated by the atmosphere.

I slowly undress, leaving my clothes in a pile on the floor. By the time she reaches me, her cheeks are damp, glistening in the heat of the room.

My fingers brush against her corset, eager to see what's underneath. I smile. "You said you needed a bath, did you not?"

She blushes. "I did."

"Well, then. Shall we get started?"

* * *

 **A/N: So sorry about the delay with this chapter, I really have no excuse other than I got into a funk and didn't do any writing, editing, drafting, nothing for about a month. It's not something that happens very often, but it's really frustrating when it does. Every time I sat down to do anything with this or my original work, I just blanked out. I really appreciate your patience and hope it was worth the wait.**

 **I will probably not be back with another update until at least after Christmas just because of my busy schedule the next couple of weeks. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday, whichever you celebrate, and if you don't celebrate at all I hope the end of 2015 is amazing!**

 **XOXO**

 **M**


	15. Chapter 15

The hot water eases my body and my soul, melting the stress away. Isabella leans back and rests her body against my bare chest as her fingers play with mine.

"I wish we could just stay here forever, tucked away from the world. Safe." I lean down and kiss her wet shoulder as the steam rises up around us.

"The world is not the enemy, Edward. It was made to be lived in, the good and the bad." She glances back at me and smiles softly before turning to face me.

"I worry about you, my love." I brush the wet strands of hair off her face and kiss her.

"I wish you would not."

"I simply cannot help it, you are just so little on that horse. It frightens me that they may break you."

She shakes her head, her expression turning serious. "They will not break me. They may injure my body, but they will not break me. They won't."

In her eyes, I see the world. I see fire and passion, and life. Love. Everything.

"I believe you."

I start massaging her shoulders, easing the tension in her muscles with every touch. Her head falls to one side and her eyes close in a moment of ecstasy, as a soft hum escapes her lips.

"You are very good with your hands," she says.

"Am I?" My fingers drop from her shoulders to her breasts, and then down her stomach until the settle between her legs.

She reaches for me, but I shake my head. "Let me take care of you."

Her hips push against my palm, her arms rest on my shoulders.

I take the time to watch her. Watch her face change, watch her body, her breasts breaking the surface in waves.

This time, she does not have to be quiet. We will not be caught by Jacob or by anyone, guarded so closely that we may as well be miles away from anyone else. And when she cries out, my entire body comes alive for her and because of her. Completely relaxed and buzzing with energy at the same time.

"Do you believe it is possible to leave your body?" She whispers, her eyes still closed, and her fingers digging into the skin at my shoulders. "To float above the ground, become weightless. Go beyond yourself."

"I will believe anything you tell me."

She opens her eyes and looks down at me with a smile. "It is possible."

A knock at the door interrupts our secret hideaway.

"Forgive the intrusion my Lord, they are starting to ask about you in the hall," my servant says.

"Thank you. I will be out in a moment," I call. "Are you sure we cannot leave? Right now? Just run away?"

"No." She smiles and kisses me before pulling herself from the bath. She dries off with a cloth and begins to dress. "I shall go out the way I've come, I suppose." She hurries toward the passage. "I love you, Edward."

"And I, you."

After she leaves, I sit alone in the silence for a few more moments. A few more days. I have to make it through the next few days. I do not know what the end of those days will hold, but I pray this plague in my heart will be cured and I do not find myself in ruin over Isabella's fate.

The rest of the evening is dull, mostly because I am not with her. I catch her in glimpses, across the room, around a corner. But it is not enough.

The next morning, I find myself slightly calmer before the second day of the joust. Perhaps because there are less competitors today. A shorter day.

I go through the motions again with my parents and the pageantry before we take our seats. I spot Isabella right away amongst the field of competitors.

Jasper paces beside her, but then he looks up at me and I feel like he's trying to tell me something. I do not even think about it, I stand and quietly excuse myself, telling my family I wish to visit the horses before the tournament begins.

He finds me before I him.

"Prince Edward." Jasper pretends to brush his horse. "I promised you I would watch out for her, but I fear this is not something I can protect her from."

"What is happening?"

"The knight she is jousting today..." He trails off.

"What?"

"Besides the fact that he's a bit of an ass, there's been rumors of cheating."

"Cheating?"

"He fastens his armor to his saddle. Makes it near impossible to unhorse him."

"Bastard. Can we expose him?"

Jasper shakes his head. "He is the favorite of a great ally of your kingdom, I would advise against it."

"Alright." I begin to sweat. "So she will not unhorse him. She can still beat him."

"She does have an advantage," Jasper muses.

"What is that?"

"She provides a smaller target." He forces a smile as the caller announces the start of the joust.

I return to my seat and wait.

Jasper easily wins his joust, unhorsing his opponent on the first ride.

Isabella is the second bout, and I glare daggers at her opponent, wanting nothing more than to pull him off his horse myself.

"Competitors ready?"

Both nod.

The flag falls and I hold my breath as they rush toward each other. Isabella looks at me, away from her opponent, and for the first time it's almost like I can feel her trepidation.

"Damn it."

Her lance slips from her hands and my heart stops. She's defenseless.

She glances back toward the front of her horse just as the lance hits her square in the chest. Her body flies back and I swear I see her hold onto her horse with all of her strength, trying desperately just to stay on. Through the pain, through the crushing defeat. She does.

"That was a close one, ha!" Father laughs, twisting a knife in my heart with each bellow. "Can't believe the lad hung on, that was a hard hit!"

I watch Isabella out of the corner of my eye. She hunches over her horse for a moment before straightening back up. She recollects her lance and turns to ride again.

"Would you like to continue?" The caller asks her. She nods.

After a few moments to reset, the flag drops again, and this time, she grips her lance firm against her body. They both somehow miss each other.

And so it comes down to the final run. She has to at least hit his chest to stay in it.

"How exciting," Victoria coos beside me. "Such strong, brave gentlemen."

"Riders, ready?"

Isabella and her opponent nod. Isabella is jittery on her horse and I realize now, she is not fearful. She's angry.

Her horse rears up, and I almost feel the determination in her ride. I feel her determination even more when she hits the other knight, and he flies back over his horse. He lands on his back in the dirt, his saddle still bolted to his armor.

The first cheer comes from another knight, who I assume is Jasper, followed shortly by the roar of the crowd.

"The winner is, Sir Charles!" The caller announces.

Isabella rides past us, and nods in respect as my family cheers. I do not try to hide my smile. I just wink at the amazing woman in front of me. Clothed in steel, and born of ash and fire.

* * *

 **A/N: Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday or past month, depending on if you celebrate anything!**

 **The tournament is over half way over! Who do you think is going to win?! WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN? Gah!**

 **Also, now taking reservations at Spa de Cullen for bathtime sessions with Edward.**


	16. Chapter 16

I wake the next morning, the last day of the tournament, unsure if I am happy or anxious about the conclusion. The melee, the final battle, can be brutal and dangerous, man against man, or in this case woman against men, brandishing swords against each other until there is only one left.

I eat my morning meal with my family, quiet and reserved. Eat is a relative word. My stomach is tumbling inside my body enough that I merely push my food around.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" My mother asks.

"I'm fine." I offer a smile and turn back to my food.

"Excited about the end of the tournament today?" She touches my shoulder.

"You have no idea."

Alice glances at me from across the table. I know that look. She wants to speak to me about something.

After we finish our meal, Mother and Father retreat to their rooms to dress for the tournament, and I meet Alice in her quarters.

"What is on your mind, dear brother?" She asks.

"Isabella," I admit.

"I figured that much." She sighs. "I did not want to tell you this, but I feel it is important."

"What is it?"

"I overheard Father speaking to Mother last night, after we returned from the tournament grounds. He plans to announce your engagement to Victoria today, just after the tournament ends."

Heat flushes my cheeks, although I cannot say I am surprised. "I knew that was coming."

"But you do not have to accept it, you know? No one stands up to him like you do."

"And you must accept the winner of the tournament?"

"My heart already belongs to someone in that tournament, Edward. All I can do is hope that he emerges victorious."

"Hope is not a sure thing."

"You are right." She kisses my cheek. "But something deep inside me tells me everything will turn out right. For both of us."

When we arrive at the tournament grounds, the stands are overflowing, everyone excited to see who finally claims victory. Only four knights remained, those who weren't dead or injured beyond repair. One knight had died overnight from his wounds.

Each knight was stationed in each corner of the field, attended to by a squire who held their sword.

"Your Majesties!" The herald announces. "Lords, Ladies. Welcome to the final day of this royal tournament!"

The crowd cheers.

"The ever-enticing melee is a battle between our remaining knights, brutal and dangerous, until only one is left standing. If a knight is no longer able to fight or withdraws from the battle, they will be disqualified."

Speaking of disqualified. I glance over at the empty space where the cheating knight used to prepare for the day. He was banished from the tournament, and banned from further entering any tournaments in our kingdom. I highly doubt he will compete anywhere again, with a reputation like that.

"Knights, ready!"

Each knight readies his sword.

"And...begin!"

The crowd roars so loud, I cannot hear myself think. The four knights charge each other, running toward the middle of the field in a frenzy. Isabella is the smallest of the four, reaching the center just steps behind the others.

Her sword swings, catching the tallest knight in the back of the knees. He falls back, collapsing onto the ground. The other two, one I'm assuming is Jasper, fight in a duel of swords.

As Isabella rushes to hover over her opponent, he swipes his leg out and trips her. She falls face forward into the dirt, her sword landing out of her reach.

"Isabella!" I scream. My cries are drowned out by the crowd. Not even Victoria hears me. But I know Isabella does. Her head turns slightly my way before jerking back as she rolls to her side, barely missing the tip of her opponent's sword.

She reaches for her sword, finally in reach, and in one swift move is back on her feet and at the ready.

I afford a glance at the other pair, and see that one is on the ground, his armor bent inward at his stomach. A large pool of blood seeps from his side and I do not need further confirmation that he will not be continuing in this tournament.

The squires rush in to carry him off as the winner of that bout turns to the remaining knights. I do not know if it is Jasper or if he is the unfortunate soul that met his sword. Alice is unsure as well. I see the fear and worry in her eyes.

My eyes turn back to Isabella. Her opponent's sword swings and catches her in the back. She stumbles forward and nearly falls again, but manages to hold her balance as she descends to one knee.

The other knight stands above her, preparing to make his final, fatal blow. I want to tell her to turn around, to move, to fight, to do something. I start to stand as he raises his sword, but in a quick rush, she turns and thrusts her sword up, catching his side between his armor.

He stalls, stuck like a pig on her blade. When she finally removes her sword from his flesh, he falls backward, unmoving.

For a moment, she seems shocked. Then, in the blink of an eye, she's back on her feet to the boisterous cheers of the crowd behind her.

And then there were two...But who is the other knight?

The come together in a sound like a cannon, metal against metal as they wrestle with each other. They turn in a whirl, so quick that I almost lose sight of which one is Isabella.

My heart stops when one throws themself at the other so hard that their feet leave the ground and they collapse into a heap in the dirt.

The injured knight curls onto their side, gripping and banging at their chest. I know the feeling. Like you've lost your breath. The air sucked from your body. I fell off a horse once when I was young and spent several minutes cowered in the grass trying to breathe.

I know in that moment, it's over. Isabella stands in shock over her defeated opponent, the last one standing. And I do not know what to do.

Her squire brings her horse to her and she hops on, still staring down at the injured knight. He waves her on, and she rides to meet the crowd, all cheering her name. Well, Sir Charles's name.

Alice is smiling, although I do not know why.

The injured knight slowly finds his way to his feet, although it's apparent he is in pain, and hobbles in front of us. With a respectful bow, he steps to the side as Isabella rides to face us.

"Good knight!" Father bellows, laughing. "Congratulations on your triumphant win." He smiles down at Alice and then back at the knight. "Please claim your prize."

Isabella jumps from her horse to our stand. She stands in front of Alice and takes her hand, planting a soft kiss on her palm. And then she steps aside, in front of my confused father, in front of my unknowing mother, and in front of a bewildered Victoria, until she stands before me.

The crowd falls silent.

I shake my head, asking her not to do this. She could run, disappear, no one would know. But asking her to do that is asking her to betray who she is. And despite my fear, I will not hold her to that. I cannot.

"Sir Charles?" Father asks.

Isabella raises her hands to either side of her helmet, and slowly raises it above her head. Her dark brown curls fall in cascades from under the metal, as gasps fall from the lips of every soul in the field.

Her face is smudge with dirt and glistening with sweat, but there's my girl. Now, everyone knows who she is.

"What in God's name?" Father shouts, his anger rising.

"Claiming my prize, Your Majesty." She bows and then turns to me with a smile before perking up on her toes and pressing her lips against mine. "As instructed," she whispers.

"You mock me!" Father shouts. "You mock our authority, our tradition, this tournament!"

"I do not mock, my King. I merely ask to be acknowledged," Isabella speaks softly. "I fought in the joust, I won the melee. And I am asking...to claim my prize."

I cannot breathe. I grip my hand tightly around hers, scared to move.

He stomps toward us, standing toe to toe with Isabella. She does not falter.

"Your only prize, my dear, will be an iron cage." He motions to his guards. "Take her away!"

"No!" I scream, finding my breath and my feet again. I push Isabella behind me, much to the surprise of my family and Victoria, who sits beside me with her mouth agape.

"Edward, what is this?" Victoria asks.

"You betray me, Son?" My father asks.

"I follow my heart. As you once did." I take a tentative step forward, forgetting the crowd and the onlookers, and place my hand on his chest. "Have you forgotten, Father?"

"Edward!" Isabella screams from behind me. I turn in time to see the guards grab her and pull her down from the stands. I jump the side, rushing toward the group, but I cannot get to her. There are too many of them. And while they would not go so far as to injure a prince, they restrain me until she's whisked away in shackles.

"Father!" I yell, rushing back toward the stands. "Stop this! Please!"

He ignores me and turns to the injured knight.

"And you! Are you a common woman as well?"

Jasper pulls his helmet off. "No, Sir." Jasper glances at me, his eyes revealing his panic. Where are they taking Isabella?

"Then claim your prize." He gestures to Alice and even though he knows he can now marry the one he loves, I know his heart cannot fully be happy.

A few in the crowd clap for Jasper's victory, but most remain silent. Isabella is one of them. Their blacksmith. Their sister. _Sister_. Where is Jacob?

I look for him in the stands, but he is not there. That's when I see him restrained by guards across from me, a little more forcefully than myself.

"Let me go," I demand. The hands release me and I rush to him, helping him up.

"This is your fault!" He screams. "You've damned her, Edward!"

"I will get her out, I promise. I will find a way."

And I would find a way. Or die trying.

* * *

 **A/N: Talk about a whiplash of emotions. Eek! How will Edward get them out of this mess?! Will the King back down or will Edward have to resort to extreme measures to rescue his lady?**


	17. Chapter 17

It has been three days since the conclusion of the tournament and Isabella's subsequent reveal. Father has busied himself with plans for Alice and Jasper's wedding to distract the townsfolk, but it is impossible. Or I assume it is. I've had two guards posted at my door who have refused to let me out since we came home. My meals are delivered three times a day, but otherwise I just sit and make myself ill with worry.

I have no news on Isabella, other than the whispered chatter of the servants. She is apparently being kept in one of the cells in the southeast tower. That gives me some hope that Father hasn't executed her for her so called treachery.

The only thing that brings me some humor is imagining how he is smoothing this all over with Victoria and her father.

I open my door just after dinner to set my tray outside.

"Hello, boys," I say to the two guards.

"Your Highness," they both chime, eyes straight ahead.

"Think you can allow me to take a walk?" I ask.

"We cannot do that, Your Highness."

I begin to tremble with fury. I know it is not their fault, that Father would probably dismiss them or worse if they allowed me out. But I am so angry I could scream.

"Allow him out," Mother says, appearing at the end of the hallway.

The guards nod and step aside, seemingly more afraid of disobeying my mother than my father.

"Mother!" I run out and join her. "Do you have news?"

"The wedding is coming along nicely," she speaks loudly, almost obnoxiously so. "Alice is thrilled, of course, and Jasper is such a kind gentleman."

She takes my arm and pulls me down a side hallway.

"I do not have much time, Son. We must speak quickly," she glances back at the main hall to make sure we're not being watched. "Isabella is alright, I visited her this morning, although I am sure your father will be furious if he finds out."

"You did?"

"Your sister will be married in less than a fortnight. Guards at Isabella's cell will me minimized to cover the celebration. She will need her evening meal delivered before the ceremony."

"I don't understand?"

"I will bring up your dressing robes for the celebration that afternoon. The tunnels will be clear. You know where to go."

"Mother?"

She leans forward and kisses my cheek. "I love you, sweetheart."

And with that is she is gone. I am still not sure what her message means, but all shall reveal itself I suppose. The knowledge that Isabella is alright lifts my spirits, and I head back to my own cell to read, feeling somewhat content that Mother has a plan.

I awake the next morning and shoot up in bed, feeling someone's eyes on me.

"Father!" I gasp, clutching my chest. "You frightened me."

He does not speak for a long time.

"And you frighten me," he says. Those are the first words he has said to me since the tournament. "What in Heaven's name were you thinking, Edward, fooling around with that girl? It's disgraceful."

"There is only one disgrace in this family and I am looking at him right now," I snap.

"Watch your words, son."

"Or what, you'll throw me in a cell just like Isabella?"

"That would be far too easy. Instead, I'll use you and her to our advantage." His foot taps anxiously against the floor.

"What do you mean?"

"I will agree to release the girl."

My stomach flutters.

"Once you are married to Victoria."

"Absolutely not!" I stand. "I will not!"

"Then I will not release her. It is your choice, Edward. You are lucky I could talk to her father and assure him that the girl was deranged and you had no part in it."

"Father!"

"I will need your answer by the time your sister weds. Either I announce your engagement or announce the treasonous girl shall spend the rest of her days in that cell."

I open my mouth to speak, but there are no words that could possibly express my thoughts. And no words would cut him like I would like them to. He's too cold.

As soon as he leaves, I sit on my bed and sigh. The only hope I can hold onto right now is that Mother's plan, whatever it is, will work.

Thankfully, I do not have to wait long. Alice's wedding arrives quickly. Although I have been confined to my room, I hear the servants bustling about outside my door.

The morning of the wedding, there's a knock on my door, early enough that it wakes me. Father steps in and asks one question.

"What is your decision, Edward?"

I figure it does not matter which answer I give him, as long as I'm able to get Isabella out, however I assume if I tell him what he wants to hear, he will be less inclined to keep guards on my heels.

"I suppose you best prepare for another royal wedding," I say.

"Good." He nods. "I shall see you later this evening."

No, he won't. I watch him even more than usual as he walks back out, convinced that this could be the last time I see him. I have no plan or desire to come back here, unless it is with Isabella by my side.

"Goodbye, Father."

He pauses, obviously confused by my words. Hopefully not enough to question it. "Goodbye, Edward."

I spend most of the day reading, playing chess against the guard stationed outside of my room. Just before evening falls, Alice steps into my room, already dressed in her wedding gown.

"You are an angel, dear sister." I kiss her cheek. "Jasper is a lucky man."

"I just wanted you to see it," she whispers, a smile on her face. "I spoke to Mother. You're doing the right thing, Edward. I can't imagine that poor girl up in that cold tower all alone."

"Father will be furious."

"Father is furious at least three times every week, what does it matter if you're one of them? He'll move onto the being furious with someone else in a few days...and then he'll realize what a huge mistake he's made and how he's pushed away a son and a daughter."

"I hope he does not take it out on you, Alice."

"I am doing what he wants. Thankfully, it happens to be what I want also." She shrugs. "And if I wasn't I would be doing the same thing you are."

I take her hand and kiss her cheek again. "Be happy."

She laughs. "You, as well."

"Knock, knock!" Mother calls, pushing the door open with my clothes in her arms. A bright blue shirt and light pants, from what I can see.

She closes the door behind her and lays the outfit out on the bed. Underneath the silk and velvet is a servant's uniform, hidden artfully inside. Everything makes sense now.

"I'll see you tonight, darling," Mother says loudly, and hugs me a little longer than normal. "I love you."

"Love you, Mother."

"Alice!" She calls. "Let's get you ready dear, we can't have you wandering around the halls, your future husband may see you." She pulls Alice out of the room with one last glance toward me. "You!" Mother says to the guard. "Please escort Alice back to her quarters and make sure she is not seen."

"But, the Prince, Your Majesty," the guard stutters.

"The Prince is a big boy and can dress himself. Thank you, Edgar."

When I'm sure they're all gone, I slip into the servant clothes Mother brought and put a few possessions into the pockets. What money I have, a few jewels, anything small that would fetch a price.

Then, when I'm ready to leave this life behind, I walk confidently out into the hall, toward the tower, and Isabella. No longer a prince, just a man. And all I've ever longed to be.

* * *

 **A/N: Esme's plan is in motion, how do you think it's going to turn out?!**

 **Thank you for reading and Happy Valentine's Day! I celebrated with pizza and a House marathon!**


	18. Chapter 18

I navigate easily, unseen toward the tower. The castle is eerily quiet, especially for a night of festivities. While I walk, I imagine Alice walking down the aisle to Jasper, and the big smile upon her face, drunk in happiness and in love. It warms my heart.

I stop by the kitchens and grab the first tray I can find. I care not what it is, it is all a ruse after all. I nod at the staff, keeping my eyes to the ground so they do not recognize me.

There is a guard positioned at the bottom of the steps that lead to the tower cells, who pays me no mind. He must be used to people bringing Isabella food. He will not be easy to slip past, but once we do the path shall be quick.

The stairs seem to go on forever, or my feet just feel heavier with every step. Once I reach the top, I turn a corner and step into the tower, a round room with cell doors all around me.

"Isabella?" I call, not too loud.

"Edward?" A voice behind the door to my left makes my heart leap. Her beautiful face pops into the small viewing slot at the top. "What are you doing?"

"We are leaving, love." I set the tray down and scramble with the keys hanging on a hook on the wall beside the door. I glance behind me while I try each key, hoping we aren't interrupted.

"What?"

"I'm rescuing you."

"Have you not learned by now, I am not the damsel in distress kind?" She teases, despite the fact she is locked in a cell.

"Forgive me, my dear, but you are in a bit of a predicament. And unless you can bust down this door yourself, you are in need of rescue." I finally find the right key and sigh in relief when the lock clinks open. The moment the door swings out, Isabella is in my arms. "You've saved me a million times over by loving me, I figure it was about time I returned the favor."

"I love you," Isabella says, kissing my lips, my face, my neck.

"I love you. Now, we must move quickly." I grab her hand and pull her down the stairs, motioning for her to be quiet as we approach the guard. I tap his shoulder and as soon as he turns my way, I throw a punch. Thankfully, it knocks him unconscious.

"Sorry!" I whisper, as we hop over his crumpled body on the floor and dart toward the stairs.

We travel down, deep into the pit of the castle, where I'd taken her once before. The tunnels, one that leads under the castle and out into the world...somewhere. Anywhere is better than here.

The tunnel is dark, but I dare not light a torch for fear of being discovered. We feel our way down the damp, cold hall, stumbling over the uneven floor every few steps. With each passing moment, I am terrified we will hear voices or footsteps behind us. That they will catch us and throw us both in cells. Or worse.

"How much longer?" Isabella asks.

"I do not know," I admit. "I never made it to the end before."

We walk for hours, never stopping.

I do not see the end, but I begin to hear it. The crashing of the ocean waves echo in the distance. We must be getting close.

Minutes later, a spot appears up ahead. Dark, but a different color black than the darkness behind us. Then, the soft twinkle of the sky above starts to come through as the waves crash louder.

The ground begins to go soft, my feet almost sinking in with each step. Sand.

I know the moment we step out of the tunnel because the wind whips from beside us, blowing my hair back.

Isabella shivers, and I know we must find some shelter from the cold, night air. I fear staying here, right by the end of the tunnel. It could perhaps be one of the first places they check.

"Just a little longer, sweetheart." I do not know if those words are the truth when I speak them, but I pray they give her a little hope. Or perhaps myself.

We follow along the rocky sand, away from the water.

Over the next hill, a small village comes into sight, the dying light of their lanterns guiding the way.

We spot a tavern on the edge of town. Both exhausted, we approach and stop at the window at the front. Not too many left inside, except for an old woman tending to the spirits.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a gold piece.

"Here." I hand it to Isabella. "I want you to go inside and ask the old woman if she has a room available. Pay her this."

"Why only me?" She asks.

"Because if they come looking for us, they'll be looking for a man and a woman. And won't be concerned with a single lady taking shelter."

"Understood." In the glow of the torches inside, Isabella's tired eyes stare back at me. "I don't think I thanked you for coming for me." She leans forward and kisses my cheek before heading inside.

I watch through the window as she speaks to the old woman. She tries handing her the gold piece, but the woman refuses. I worry they've already discovered us, perhaps they've warned the villages to expect strangers.

I hold my breath until Isabella emerges, a lit candle lighting her way.

"Rooms are all taken," she says. "But she said I can sleep in the stable loft. It's behind the tavern here." She guides me around the building and to the back. A large stable, fence stretched out into the dark, stands.

We head inside and find most of the horses pacing in their stalls or asleep. At the end of the stable, a rickety ladder ascends up into the loft. Isabella goes first and I follow after.

The loft is filled with scraps of straw, and not much else.

"This is not what I imagined," I said.

"It's better than a prison cell." Isabella smiles and bundles some of the straw together to form a cushion. "It's actually fairly comfortable." She lays down and beckons me to join.

I shake my head and lay beside her, trying to cover both of us as much as I can with my cloak. I should feel anxious about the path ahead. About the fact that we're sleeping in someone's stable. But for the first time in my life, I feel free. I fall asleep quickly and deeply, the day's events a mere memory and the woman I love curled up beside me. All was well.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this, time got away from me. Well, the rescue went relatively smooth! Do you think they'll be able to get away completely unrecognized or will our lovebirds have a very angry king to deal with?**


	19. Chapter 19

All was not well, as I had hoped. Not as well as I thought, anyway.

We woke the next morning, early, to the sound of a rooster outside the stable. The woman Isabella spoke to last night opened the door at the first light of dawn. It creaked loud enough to wake the dead and suddenly I was up and alert, sitting in the straw beside Isabella.

"Good morning," I say.

"Morning." She stretches and leans over the side to watch the woman below feed the few horses. My stomach rumbles.

"I suppose I am a little hungry as well."

"Well we shall find you something to eat." Isabella leans over and kisses my cheek.

"We don't have a lot of money," I whisper, feeling ashamed. I am thankful that we're here and we're safe, but we need to make a plan. Something. "I grabbed enough to help us along, but we need to be careful with spending."

"Have you never worked for your keep, my Lord?" Isabella winks at me and starts down the ladder.

The woman below glances up as we descend, me following shortly after Isabella.

"May we work for you, Madam?" Isabella asks. "For a meal?"

She looks us up and down, I suppose wondering why I look familiar and what our story is, and how a single lady turned into a pair overnight.

"Stables need cleaning." She nods to a rake in the corner and walks out.

"Good." Isabella grabs the rake and turns back to me. "There's a cart outside, go get it will you?"

"What is the cart for?"

"The manure."

My eyes widen. "The what?"

"The manure, Edward. What do you think she meant when she said the stables needed cleaning?"

I head outside and pull the cart in. Isabella is already shoveling out the first stall, the horse tied up to a post just outside.

"So, really. What are we going to do, Edward?" She turns and looks at me, her face already slick with sweat. "We can't shovel out stables for a living. We need something else. I cannot open a workshop again. A lady blacksmith? There isn't another in this kingdom, they would find us in days."

"Maybe we could find my sister and Emmett. They have obviously made their way this whole time."

"And how do you plan to find her? It's not like we have an entire kingdom or more as a hunting ground. Your father's guards couldn't find them, I do not know how we will."

"My father or his guards do not know my sister as I do." I take over shoveling. "There's a small village, right at the edge of the kingdom, nestled at the base of a mountain pass. We rode through it once on a visit with Father and Rose told me after how much she wished she could live there instead of the castle. She would not shut up about it." I laugh, thinking about all of the times I had to listen to her go on and on about it. "I say it's a good place to start."

"Good place? It is a long shot. Beyond a long shot." Isabella sighs. "But I suppose we do not have anywhere else to be."

We finish shoveling the stables, wash up, and eat in the tavern. Before we leave town, I secure a horse from the stables, using what little money we have. I decide transportation is important if we're to get anywhere this century.

I am a fool for direction, but I know the village is east of where we are now. We take less traveled roads and travel mostly at night to avoid being seen as much as possible. Those nights begin to blend, blurring into one long, dark, uncomfortable journey.

When the mountains rise up before us nearly a fortnight later, I breathe a sigh of relief. It will take several days to find the village, if we find it at all, but we are here. We are alive. And we're together.

I keep an eye out for familiar marks, familiar peaks on the mountains beside us. I grow so tired and weary that all of the peaks start to look the same.

"My turn," Isabella says from behind me. Her arms tighten on my waist as her sleepy head lifts from my shoulder. I hop down and she scoots forward before I take my place behind her. I tie myself to the saddle and as soon as my head hits her shoulder I'm fast asleep, the gentle trot of the horse against the ground like a lullaby.

I wake to heat on my face. Sunshine. It must be morning.

I open my eyes and am surprised to find I'm no longer on the horse. I'm stretched out on the ground, in a soft bed of long grasses in the middle of a meadow. The mountains surround us, almost tall enough to block out the sun.

"Good morning," Isabella says, chomping on an apple as she leans against a tree beside me.

"Morning." I yawn. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Awhile. I stopped when we got to the village just up the way and guided you off the horse. You were still half asleep."

"I guess so, I do not remember any of it." I slowly stand and she offers me a bite of her apple. "What village is it?" I peer down the dirt road leading into the town and drop the apple. This is it. It's the one.

"You found it." I smile. "Isabella, you found it!" I sweep her up in a hug and kiss her neck. "Come."

I take off for the village and she follows closely behind, pulling the horse along.

Just before we reach the village, a young boy passes us on the road.

"Excuse me." I say to him. "We're looking for...a woman. Light hair. Very pretty. And a man." I speak quickly. "They would have only arrived in the last few months. Do you know them?" It was a small village, any newcomers would stand out.

"I do not know, Sir." He smiles sadly and continues on his way.

"Oh. Well, thank you."

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she did not come here after all.

"Sir!" The boy calls again. "There was a man, woman, and baby that arrived two full moons ago. The woman, she had light hair, like you said. She gave my mother rubies to stay in our back house."

My heart races. "Can you take me there?"

"Aye." The boy nods and turns around, leading us back into town. Isabella takes my hand as we walk through, the villagers faces turned toward the new strangers. Part of me wonders if they recognize me. But if Rose feels safe here, perhaps we can too.

Once we reach the edge of town, the boy turns down a small gravel path, leading down toward the cliffs that overlook the sea. A cozy house sits framed by a fence, with several goats and a cow roaming the yard.

Even from outside, I hear a baby cry. Is it possible Rose was with child when she left the castle?

We round the gate and tie the horse to the fence. I bid the boy farewell and give him a coin to pocket for his help.

Before I knock on the door, I hear a soft melody float through the open window. A lullaby. The baby's crying slows and I peer into the window.

A woman with a baby now sleeping soundly on her shoulder stands with her back to me. Her hair is pulled up and hid under a bonnet, but light blonde strands fall onto her neck.

"Sleep, my sweet," the woman says. "I love you to the stars and beyond. I love you to the depths of the sea..."

"I love you because you are a part of me," I join. Mother used to say that to us as children.

The woman turns. Although I never would have imagined seeing her like this, flour on her face, dressed in nothing more than a peasant's dress, it's my sister. And she looks happier than ever.

"Edward!" She rushes toward the door, adjusting the baby on her shoulder. "Emmett! She yells out the open window.

She throws her free arm around me and openly weeps. "I knew you would find me. I knew you would."

Emmett rounds the corner, covered in dirt and grass. "Sire," he says, falling to his knees.

"Please," I beg. "No need." I blush. "You are my brother now, I expect to be treated as such."

"Come inside. Come." Rose ushers us in, kissing Isabella on the cheek as she passes.

We hear all about their adventures since they left the castle, about little Margaret's arrival several months ago. About the life they are making here in this town.

"We raise and sell the animals. Or the eggs or milk," Emmett explains. "We have chickens around the back."

"I am impressed," I say.

"And I am impressed with you, Brother. Standing up for what you believe in. For love. Tell me of Alice," Rose says.

"She is well. Set to marry the runner up of the tournament and in love as ever," I say.

"Runner up? What happened to the winner?"

"You're looking at her," Isabella says.

We talk the rest of the evening, telling Rose and Emmett about the rest of the tournament, Isabella's arrest, and our escape. Rose makes up a place for us to sleep and I drift off listening to the sounds of the sea outside the door and Emmett's obnoxious breathing.

Life in the village is different. Easy. Slow. Free. Emmett teaches me about the animals and Isabella begrudgingly learns about taking care of a household, although she tells me once we have our own we will both be sharing that responsibility. I oblige with a smile. I would do anything she asked me to.

The days melt away, and with each passing moment the weight on my shoulders lifts. We could make a life here. We could be happy, just as happy as Rose and Emmett.

"Do the people not recognize you? Aren't you worried they'll tell?" Isabella asks one night, as we eat supper.

"They suspected. And although we never say it out loud, we are sure they know. But they are a kind people. Protective of their own. We have become their own. I trust them with my life." She kisses little Margaret. "Our lives."

A frantic knock at the door startles us, especially at this hour. Emmett motions for us to stay still as he opens the door just a bit. He sighs in relief when he sees it us the owner of the house, the boy's mother. She rushes in, a look of panic on her face.

"I came as soon as I heard." She turns to me and bows. "Your Highness," she stutters. "I am sorry to bring such news, but I felt you should know. He's set to be hanged!"

"Hanged?" I ask. "Who?"

"News came from the castle, from the King himself. The boy is accused of aiding in your escape, Sire, he's been in the tower since you left."

"Who, Madam?" I ask again.

"The blacksmith's son." She turns to Isabella and frowns. "I am sorry, Miss."

"What?" Isabella stands, her eyes filling with tears. "No, he can't. Jacob...Edward, we have to go back. We have to go back now." She's speaking so quickly, I can barely understand her. "We have to save him, it's not his fault. I can't let him die because of me. Please."

"Alright." I put my arms around her and hold her tight. She's right. We cannot let him die because of us. She would never forgive herself and I could not live with her feeling responsible for his death. "We shall leave tonight."

We begin to pack up our things right away, the few things we've acquired since we arrived here. I begin to load them onto the horse, and prepare to say goodbye to my sister, and maybe goodbye to the life I thought we could have here. The happiness was short lived. But, God, was it happiness.

"I will be back as soon as I can, the baby will do fine with milk from the cow. If she gets fussy, take her for a walk down by the sea," Rose says, handing the baby to the woman.

"Rose? What are you doing?" I ask.

"We're coming with you." She hands Emmett a bag and he sets outside to prepare their horses.

"You cannot! You have a child. You don't know what Father will do." I shake my head.

"I can, Edward. I never got to tell him all of the things I wanted to say. We are a part of this, too. And I have things I want to say." The look in her eyes tells me she's not backing down from this. "Mrs. Watts will take care of Margaret."

"Edward," Isabella says, peeking her head inside. "We're ready."

"Alright then." I nod. "Let's go."

* * *

 **A/N: Your eyes on not playing tricks on you, it's a real, live update! I know, the miracle of May.**

 **Seriously though, I greatly apologize for how long it took to get this to you. My mojo just went up and deserted me and everytime I sat down to work on it, I hated everything I was writing. And you all deserve better than something I hate, so I wanted to make sure before I put something out there it was worthy. I hope it was.**

 **So much going on! Rose and Emmett found their happily ever, but it seems like Edward and Bella's may be cut short! Will they get back in time to save Jacob? And even if they do, what the heck will they do to save him!? This one will be finishing up soon!**

 **Thank you all for being awesome!**

 **M**


	20. Chapter 20

We reach home while the moon is still high in the sky. Until we know what our plan is, we hide out in a small cave in the wooded area below. Well hidden from any guards that may be passing by. We noticed the gallows still standing in the village, a reminder of the events to come. At least we know he's still alive.

After we settle in, exhaustion takes over and I fall fast asleep with Isabella laying beside me in the dirt. I wake, hours later, alone.

"Isabella?" I sit up and look around. I find her at the entrance of the cave, watching the sunrise through the trees. "Morning."

She smiles, just a bit, but doesn't say anything.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

"I was not scared when I entered the tournament, Edward. Or even when I was in the tower, in that cell. But I am scared now." Her eyes are filled with tears. "I am scared for him, I am scared for you."

"Absolutely not, Rose!" Emmett says, quite forcefully, from behind us. "It's way too dangerous."

"You really think he'll kill his own children?" She fires back.

"I would not put anything past your father at this point. You want to barter with your life? With my life, with our daughter's? Because you are our life and losing you would kill us."

"I ran away before because I felt like it was the only way to tell him how I felt. I don't feel that way anymore. I want to show him. I want to tell him."

"What is going on?" I ask.

"Your brilliant sister has a plan that will probably get both of you killed."

"What?" Isabella grabs my hand, panic setting in.

After Rose explains her brilliant idea, Isabella has about the same reaction as Emmett.

"But how do you know?" She asks. "How do you know for sure he won't?"

"Because I'd like to think he still loves us, even if he doesn't know how to show it. And my mother would never forgive him." I kiss her cheek, and feel her trembling under my touch. I don't know that I could handle her watching. I believe what I said. I do not believe my father would resort to killing his children for his ego, but I would be lying if I said I was entirely certain. But I would take that chance for Isabella. And for Jacob. She does not deserve to lose him and he does not deserve to die for me.

Rose and I spend the rest of the day figuring out our plan, while Emmett and Isabella desperately try to talk us out of it. When we fall asleep that night, I am not that surprised when Rose wakes me while the moon is still high in the sky.

"We should go. Now." She glances back at a sleeping Emmett, sorrow in her eyes. "He'll never let me go, Edward. He thinks I'll change my mind and we'll find another way. I don't see another way."

I nod in understanding and look at the beautiful woman asleep in my arms. Lord, what did I ever do to deserve her?

I kiss her, smell her hair and feel her skin against mine, drinking in everything I can to hold onto the memory of her. Despite my best intentions, things could go wrong. This could be all I have left with her.

Then, even with every fiber of my being wishing to lay back down next to her and sleep, I pull myself away from her and Rose and I disappear into the night.

"Are you sure we can trust her?" I ask. Rose is convinced one of her ladies will help us.

"She was my very best friend in the castle...except for Alice. And I do not want Alice involved in any of this. Siobhan will help us." Rose sighs when we reach the castle.

"Knowing Alice, she probably expects us to do something anyway."

"I sent word with a boy from the village earlier today. He delivers flour to the kitchens. Siobhan should be waiting for us at the entrance."

As we walk around to the back of the castle, the smell of the kitchens overtakes me, fire and meat. A small figure, candle in hand, steps out of the tunnel entrance and whistles.

"That's her. Let's go." Rose pushes me forward as we scramble across the yard and into the safety of the tunnel.

"Oh, Milady!" Siobhan throws her free arm around Rose and weeps. "I have missed you so."

"And I you." Rose kisses her cheek. "But we must work quickly if we are to save the boy."

Siobhan nods and offers me a quick curtsey before handing us both cloaks to conceal our identities.

Her and Rose speak quietly as we make our way through the tunnel, past the kitchens, where the cooks are already preparing meals for the day. Once we reach the main hallways, Rose and I keep our heads down and follow Siobhan toward the tower. It feels strange being back here. Like it's not home anymore. And it isn't.

"Stay here." Siobhan pauses before we reach the stairs to the tower. "Wait until we've gone round the corner, then go. You'll only have a few minutes before he insists on returning to his post. Tell them to go back the way we've come, the servants will pay them no mind."

She goes on ahead of us, and I hear whispers around the corner.

"What is she doing?" I ask Rosalie.

"Apparently, she's had a fling going with the guard. She's going to...distract him for us so we can go up unnoticed."

With the clink of metal hitting the floor, I peek around the corner and see, fortunately and unfortunately, a bare ass disappearing into the shadows. The guard's pants, along with a set of keys, lay in a pile on the floor.

"Let's go." I nod, signaling Rose that the coast is clear. We round the corner, slowly and quietly grab the keys from the clothes, and tiptoe up the stairs to the cells.

The tower is full. Each cell occupied.

"Jacob," I call, searching through the darkness.

"Edward?" His voice cuts through from the cell across from me.

I grab the keys from Rosalie and unlock his cell.

"What are you doing here?" Jacob asks.

"Saving you. Do you think your sister would really stay with me if I got you killed?" I hug him. "And I kind of like having you as a friend."

"Boy, am I glad. I thought I was done for."

"Edward, give me the keys." Rose motions from the cell next to us. I hand her the keys and she releases a woman from the cell.

"God bless you, your Highness," the woman says.

"Give me your clothes," I tell Jacob.

"What?"

"Your clothes." I pull my cloak and my shirt off. "And you'll take mine."

Behind me, I hear Rosalie telling the woman the same thing. I don't check, mostly because I do not care to see my sister that way.

Jacob doesn't ask any other questions as we switch clothes. When we're done, I had him the keys to the cell and step inside. I hear the cell next to mine close, so I assume Rosalie is ready.

"Jacob, listen to me. I need you to lock us both inside. Then wear the cloaks, take the woman and leave through the passage by the kitchens. Emmett and your sister are hiding in the forest, in a cave just outside the village. Find them." I can tell he doesn't understand, but he locks me in anyway.

"How are you going to get out?" He asks, locking Rosalie's cell.

"We aren't." She answers.

"What?" Jacob shakes his head. "Where will we find you?"

I smile sadly, hoping he'll trust in our plan. "The gallows."

* * *

 **A/N: Oh. My. Goodness. How can this possibly end well?!**

 **Love to hear your thoughts!**


	21. Chapter 21

Rosalie and I sit in our cells for most of the day, the passing hours marked by the changing of the guards down the stairs. The other prisoners pay no mind to us, gold galleons lining their pockets for their silence. Not that it would help them much if they are condemned to death.

A moldy piece of bread is thrown into my cell and I keep my head low so the guard does not catch onto the switch. Then, several hours later, they come to get us.

"You three!" The guard throws a black hunk of fabric into my cell, Rosalie's cell, and a cell beside me. "Over your heads."

I pull the hood over my head, but the fabric is thin enough I can still see. The guard opens our cells and all three of us step out. One by one, we are led down the stairs and to another guard.

My nerves start to get the best of me, and each and every step gets harder, heavier. I fear I may fall and expose my deception. I suppose it will not matter much at this point. Jacob is away and safe. But we will never be completely free. My father will hunt for us, hunt the people we know and love to get to us. It has to end now. Today.

I cannot help but imagine the worst outcome. What if something goes wrong? What if both my sister and I end up dead? Isabella will never forgive me and my dear niece would grow up without a mother. It's a future I cannot bear to face.

Before we step outside, we're led into a small room barely larger than a pantry. A chaplain awaits for us, clutching his cross hard in his hand.

"You may remove your hood for our meeting," he says.

"No thank you, Sir," I answer kindly. I am too close now to be discovered prematurely.

He brings out a Bible and begins to read us passages, showing us the way to repent and beg forgiveness for our sins.

"Would you like to confess any of your wrongdoings to me before we proceed?" He asks me.

"My sins shall be revealed in time. And for them, I have no regrets."

He looks at me with a strangely curious expression. I suppose that is the first time he's heard something of that nature. He speaks briefly to Rosalie and the third prisoner before leaving us alone. After a few moments, we are retrieved and led outside.

Even with the dark hood, the sunlight is blinding. We are loaded up onto a cart and carried down into the village, where the gallows await.

I hear the crowd before I see them, all gathered to witness the murder of one of their own. Usually a celebration, this day is anything but. Choruses of contempt and outrage from each corner of the crowd ring out against the hanging of an innocent man.

Rosalie is helped off before I am, and together we stumble up the steps of the gallows. I search the crowd for my parents, but instead I find the last person I want to see here.

Isabella hides around the corner of a building, joined by Jacob and Emmett. No doubt Jacob has filled them in on what he knows, which is not much and I cannot imagine helps ease their fears.

"Your Majesty," the guard calls out to my father, and I finally see him settled in a chair under the tree in front of us. My mother sits beside him, unaware that two of her children stand before her on the gallows. "I present to you Hebert Turner, convicted of rape and murder. Georgina Pintman, convicted of thievery. And the blacksmith's son, Jacob, convicted of treason against the Crown."

My father looks around, almost like he is expecting me to be here to contest.

I jump when the noose is placed around my neck and tightened. The rope is thick and frayed, scratching against my exposed skin.

My mouth goes dry and no matter how I try, I simply cannot swallow.

"Step to the edge, please," the executioner nudges us forward until my foot is half off. I start to sway back and forth, lightheaded from the stress of it all. One false move and I could die and this would be all for nothing.

"May God have mercy on your souls," my father says. He nods to the executioner, who removes the third prisoner's hood, then moves to remove mine and Rosalie's.

As soon as the sun hits my skin, the crowd gasps and then falls silent. I hear the executioner stumble back behind me, surprised to find his prisoners are not prisoners at all. We are royalty.

"Edward!" My mother jumps from her seat. "Rosalie!" She tugs at my father's arm. "Get them down from there, this instant. Carlisle!"

"Get them down!" Father orders.

Before the executioner can take one step toward us, Rosalie stops him.

"Not another step!" She warns, hovering closer to the edge of the platform. "We will jump, sir."

"What is this?!" My father yells. "What the hell is going on?"

"You have a choice, Father." I clear my throat and glance toward Isabella. "You can allow us to follow our hearts. You can support us. You can have us, well and alive and in your life."

"Or you will not have us at all." Rosalie looks at me and nods.

"So, what will it be, Sire? Kill your own children for your ego, or compromise for their lives? For their love?"

"Stop this, now, Edward!" Father stands and rushes toward the gallows, pushing his way through the crowd.

"We will not yield! Make your choice."

Sweat trickles down my forehead. I feel like I cannot breathe. Maybe I'm not.

Now that he's as close as he is, I see something in my Father's eyes that I don't know I've ever seen before. Absolute fear.

"I...I only wanted the best for you. For you both." He looks at Rosalie. "I am sorry if I strayed from that path in my own ignorance. May we speak in private? Please?"

I eye the crowd around us. Although there are many things to say, and would be best said behind closed doors, there is one thing I wish for the village to hear.

"We may. As soon as you revoke all charges against Jacob, and this poor soul here." I gesture to the third prisoner beside Rosalie.

"Done." Father nods, tears in his eyes.

Rosalie and I exchange a look, wondering if we trust our own father when he's done nothing to earn that trust. She concedes and steps back from the edge. I follow.

The crowd erupts in applause, like they were watching the drama of the tournament again.

I remove the noose from my neck and make my way down into the crowd to find Isabella. I do not find her standing where she was before and I begin to worry.

"Edward." Rosalie tugs on my shirt and points. Isabella is walking toward me, her step hurried and a joyous smile on her face.

"You are in so much trouble for what you just did." She jumps into my arms and kisses my neck. "But I'm so glad you did it."

"Rosalie! Edward!" Mother comes rushing toward us, her guards flanking either side. "My babies!"

"Mother!" Rosalie hugs her for a long moment before I get my turn.

"You scared your mother half to death..." She whispers in my ear.

"I'm sorry. I love you, so much." I hug her tighter. "Do you think he means it?" I say, low enough for only us to hear.

"If the man I married is still inside him, he means it with his whole heart." She smiles and turns to Isabella, enveloping her in her arms. "Hello, sweetheart."

"Your Majesty." Isabella laughs, unsure of the propriety of the situation.

"None of that. You may call me Mother or Esme." She laughs. "Come. Let us go home." She glances between us. Isabella. Emmett. Jacob. Me and my sister. "All of us."

The ride back to the castle is strange at best. Mother talks non-stop, asking Rosalie and I questions about our travels and about her granddaughter. Father sits silently in his seat, a pensive expression on his face as he keeps his eyes on the passing trees.

Alice is, of course, thrilled to see us. Her swollen belly is just enough that I feel it against my own when we embrace.

"Did not waste any time, did we?" I jest.

After the celebration has calmed, I excuse myself to the study and wait for the inevitable conversation with my Father and wonder how it will unfold.

When the door creaks open, I hold my breath, only to find Isabella poking her head inside.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

"I do not know." I smile anxiously.

She sits beside me and takes my hand in hers. And we wait.

Nearly an hour later, the door opens again and my father steps in.

Isabella stands and starts to leave. "I will give you your privacy."

"No, please stay, Isabella. I would like to speak to you as well." Father offers his arm to her and escorts her back to a chair.

"I...I uhhh." He sighs. "I have never been so terrified in my life as when I saw you and Rosalie up there. Your entire life flashed through my mind, when you were born, when we used to play out in the courtyard, when I gave you your first riding lesson. Those were the happiest times of my life, son." He takes my hand. "And I have disgraced those memories, haven't I?"

"Yes." I tell the truth because right now I cannot afford not to.

"I do not know where I lost my way as a father or as a King, Edward. But when I realized how much you and this girl love each other, enough that both of you were willing to die for your love if that's what it took. It reminded me of the love I have for your mother and for you and your sisters. I do not know why it has come out in the harshest of ways, but I was wrong. I was so wrong, Edward. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to not have you or my grandchildren in my life."

He slides from his seat to the floor, onto his knees, in a place beneath his station in his eyes. And he pleads with me to forgive him. He pleads with Isabella to forgive him.

I struggle with the words. With telling him that I forgive him, because I do not know if I can truly say them right now and mean it. I may in time, I hope.

"I forgive you," Isabella says, joining him on the floor. She surprises me when she wraps her arms around him and cries with him.

After they pull themselves from the floor, I hug my father, still unsure of my feelings toward him or this whole thing. I feel in my heart that what he says is true, that it comes from that person my mother talked about. The real him. But it also doesn't erase all of the terrible things he's done.

"I love you, Father." I nod. "That's all I can give you right now."

"That's all I need, son. Much more than your sister could right now, and I do not blame her."

Rosalie isn't one to calmly talk about her feelings when she is angry, so I can only imagine how this conversation went with her. She will make him suffer for awhile, but I know deep down, Rosalie loves our family, every member of it, fiercely. Even if she hates them at the same time.

After he leaves, I watch Isabella pull herself back together, wiping at her eyes.

"How did you do it?" I ask.

"Do what?"

"Forgive him so easily."

"It was not easy, Edward. Forgiveness is one of the most difficult and rewarding gifts we give in this life." She sits on my lap and wraps her arms around my neck. "But I just know that I'd give anything to have my father here with us right now, and I do not want you to regret not giving this a shot. Forgiveness does not mean that it erases everything your Father has done, but it allows us to hope for better future. I want that future for us."

I smile and kiss her. "As do I, my beautiful knight. As do I."

* * *

 **A/N: Helllllo, everyone! It's been awhile, I know. I hope you enjoyed this sometimes nail-biting chapter and I just want to let all of you know how much I appreciate all of you reading, following, reviewing, everything. You mean the world to me and I feel so lucky that I get to share my worlds with you!**

 **What do you think about Isabella's view on forgiveness? Would you have been able to forgive the King and try to start over?**

 **How will it play out as Isabella and Edward start their life together back home? The next and last chapter will hold all of the answers :)**


	22. Chapter 22

_**10 Years Later...**_

"Mommy, come play with me!" Little Margaret runs across the courtyard, her tiny legs moving as fast as they possibly can.

I smile and watch as Isabella stands and rushes after our daughter. They chase each other around the yard, laughing and singing while Alice and Mother sit under the tree across the way.

I glance up at the castle behind me, to the one window way up in the corner, where I know my Father is probably asleep in his bed. The sickness came quickly, and although the town healer has visited several times, I think we all know his time is short. I try not to think about it.

"Daddy!" Margaret crashes into me and I fall playfully back into the grass.

"You got me, little one!"

She pulls a wooden sword from her waist and threatens me.

"I'm a knight, just like Mommy!" She declares.

"Yes, you are. Your Mommy is the bravest knight I've ever known." I sneak around her weapon and place a kiss on her cheek.

"Tell me the story again." Margaret sits down beside me as Isabella walks up.

"What's she asking?"

"She wants to know all about how her mother won the heart of the dashing young prince." I smile.

Isabella laughs and sits down, pulling Margaret close to her. "You've heard this story a million times, my love. I know for a fact Uncle Jacob told it to you barely three days ago at bedtime."

"I know, but Uncle Jacob doesn't tell it as good as you do. He leaves out all the good parts," Margaret says.

"Alright then," Isabella starts. "Once upon a time..." She smiles at me. "There was a little girl just like you who lived down in the village. She loved her father and her brother dearly, but she wanted something more."

"More?"

"Yes. You see, she used to spend her days playing with the other children of the village. And the little boys used to talk about their dreams of becoming a knight of the king, of playing with swords and the bravery of the tournaments in hopes of winning love."

"You won Daddy's heart?" Margaret says.

"She won my heart long before she won the tournament, sweetheart." I tickle her little feet.

"And then what happened?"

"I wanted to be brave. I wanted to be strong and I wanted to find love." Isabella shrugs. "So I told those little boys what big dreams I had ."

"And?"

"And they told me that girls couldn't be knights."

"But you are a knight, Mommy!"

"I was." Isabella kisses the top of her head. "And if you ever want something in your life that someone tells you you can't have, you try anyway. Always follow your heart."

Isabella continues her story. About how she'd travelled to see Jasper when her father died. About how he was skeptical at first. And how she disarmed him in moments and made him promise to help her.

I'd asked Jasper several years ago, after the dust had died down from the scandalous royal affairs, why he decided to help her.

"I remember her mother. She only came to visit me once before she died, but I remember her kindness and her compassion. Her eyes were soft brown, enough to make you feel what she was feeling with one single look. Isabella? She has her mother's eyes. And in that moment when she looked at me, I felt what she felt. Fire. Passion. A spark that I would not dare extinguish." He had smirked at me. "And plus, have you ever tried to convince her she's wrong?"

"Can I be a knight, Daddy?" Margaret jumps into my lap.

"You can be whatever you want to be. You can marry who you love. I don't know that there's much I could ever deny you." I look up at Isabella. "You do have your mother's eyes."

"Your Highness." One of the servants approaches. "Pardon the intrusion, Sire, but the King wishes to see you." Her eyes are red and puffy, evidence of a crying fit. It seems to be a commonality here lately. Even down in the village, the people are concerned for my father. It took him awhile to win back their love and trust, but win them back he did.

"Alright. Thank you." I nod to Isabella and Margaret and get up.

"Can I come and see Grandfather, too?" Margaret asks.

"Maybe later, sweetheart. Why don't you go track down Aunt Rosalie and play with your cousins for a little bit, eh?"

"I'll take her." Isabella grabs Margaret's hand, her expression sad. "Do you wish me to accompany you?" She asks quietly.

"No, I'll be alright. I'll find you later."

She nods and takes Margaret toward the castle entrance. I follow shortly behind, but instead of heading to the Great Hall, I take an obscure staircase that leads up to my father's room.

Several servants keep vigil at his door, ready with food, drink, or whatever he needed. I fear food nor drink will help him now.

I push the door open and find him lying in his bed, his breathing labored and his skin pale.

"Father." I kneel beside his bed and take his hands in my own.

"My son." He manages a smile. "My boy."

I would ask how he was feeling but I did not feel it would benefit either of us. His illness is in his face and in his touch, frail and weak.

"Won't be long now, Edward." He smiles sadly, barely able to. "I want to tell you something before..."

"Father, don't." I shake my head, begging him not to speak that way although both of us know it is the truth. "Save your strength so you can get better."

"I won't get better, Edward. I won't. The sooner we acknowledge that, the more honest we can be with each other, don't you agree?"

I don't argue. For once in my life.

"I want you to know how proud I am of you. How proud of the King I know you will be. And." He pauses and takes a few deep breaths, the best he can manage. "And I want to thank you for standing up to me all those years ago. If you hadn't, I wouldn't have the life I've had. Shorter than I would have hoped, I admit, but these last years have been the most wonderful. With you, and your sisters and mother. And my grandbabies. And Isabella."

I cannot help but smile at the sound of her name.

"She is quite a lady, son."

"I love you, Father." The tears come without plan or thought, they're just there, hot and wet against my skin.

"I love you, too."

The room goes very still, very quiet. My father takes one deep breath, and then, as he reaches his final moment of peace with his life, he goes.

The servants are the first to cry out, breaking through the strange calm of the room.

"Please fetch my mother and sisters," I stutter, holding tight to my father's hand as his soul departs this life. I know not what I will say to my family, do not know that I will be able to say anything at all.

Several minutes pass before Mother, Alice, and Rosalie arrive. Thankfully, I do not need to utter a word. They all know.

The girls cling to Mother like she is the only thing holding them to the floor, their eyes red with tears.

"Edward," Mother sighs.

"It's done." I wipe my nose on my sleeve. "He seemed...content." I nod and get up, giving them all a kiss on the cheek as I leave in haste.

After I tend to Mother, Alice, and Rosalie, I go to the hidden baths, the ones Isabella and I escaped to the night of the ball, and so many times after. Just for some solitude. Just for some peace. To think.

Minutes, hours pass. I find myself standing as still as a statue studying the stained glass window. The way the colors change and shine in the light. How each piece is so intricately fit together to make this beautiful masterpiece.

"Edward," Isabella's voice comes softly from behind me. "We've been looking for you for hours, you've worried your mother to-"

"Death..." I mumble.

I hear her footsteps come up behind me and when her arms wrap around my waist, I take my first deep breath since my father died.

"My father loved you," I say.

"I think he tolerated me," she teases. They had a relationship no one else understood, but it was theirs. And they did love each other, almost as much as they frustrated each other.

"He told me you were quite a lady."

"Well, I won't argue with that." She kisses my back. "Are you alright?"

"As well as I can be."

"The King's advisor's are looking for you." She clears her throat. "To make the arrangements."

"For the funeral?"

"For your crowning."

"Oh." I nod. "I see. Well then, I shouldn't keep them waiting."

We leave the bath together, hand in hand, holding my shattered heart together the best I can manage.

The wake is short, as Father would have wanted it. Days later, I sit waiting for the crowning ceremony to start. My leg hops anxiously up and down as I listen to the chatter from outside my door. I am not nervous about being King. I realize it's not that at all. No. I'm nervous because I want to make sure he would be proud of me.

"Whatever doubts are running through your head right now, they're wrong." Isabella steps inside, wearing the most beautiful dress of gold and white.

"I don't want to disappoint him," I admit.

"I think that's impossible, Edward. The people have loved you since you were young. I love you. Margaret loves you. And he loved you. This isn't about taking his place as much as it is becoming who you were meant to be."

"And you, my Queen?" I take her hand and raise it to my lips. "Do you believe you are who you were meant to be?"

"No."

I pull back, surprised.

"Because this life is so much more than I could have ever believed. I can only hope our daughter has the same magical, unexpected path that we had." She kisses me. "You are going to make a wonderful King."

"Only because you are my Queen." I can only imagine all of the wonderful things Isabella will do for the people.

We take a few more moments to ourselves and then I take a deep breath, and begin the long walk down the aisle. Eyes watch me as a I walk, whispers follow each step. Isabella walks, not behind me, but beside me. Margaret waits at the end with Mother, who has thankfully needed her Grandmother duties the past few days to take her mind off things while I settle into my new role.

My hands shake as the ceremony begins and the next thing I know, the heavy crown is placed on my head. It reminds me of everything I stand for. What I want my Kingdom to stand for. And how I will fight every day for my people and to make my family proud.

"Presenting his Majesty King Edward, and Queen Isabella! Long live the King!"

The crowd erupts in applause and I can't help but smile and take a deep breath. Despite of my grief over losing my father, I feel complete. The close of a chapter and the beginning of another.

The girl born of ash and fire has found her place in the world in the most unexpected of circumstances. And I, a Prince of dreams and a wild heart, has realized he knew all along where he was meant to be. A perfect match and, if I may say so myself, a very, very happily ever after indeed.

* * *

 **A/N: Hi, all. Or those of you who are still with me. Thank you to those who are! As you probably noticed, it's been awhile. To be honest, I haven't been in a great place creatively. I've even been struggling to work on my original pieces. I don't know exactly what it was, but it took me so long to get something together that I was happy with. I sat on the last few lines for awhile, going back and forth on what I liked and what I didn't. I've literally had the rest of it done for several weeks, but I couldn't find the right words. I guess all writers get in funks sometimes, right?**

 **Anyway, enough rambling. I have the final part of When We Were Young going and partially completed. That will be hopefully coming sooner than later and then I will be taking a break to get my brain back on the right track for writing. Whether that's focusing on my original pieces for a while or dabbling in some one shots, I'm not sure, but as soon as I know you guys will know.**

 **Thank you to all of my readers for being so patient and kind and supportive, I couldn't do any of this without you. I hope you enjoyed this little story about a Prince and his Ladyknight :)**


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